I was a freshman in college, with everything that implies: I was green, scared, eager, excited, learning, stupid, silly, and a hundred other things.
Among the civilians working on our campus was Mrs Grigsby. I can see her to this day: stern, tight-lipped, unfriendly, and unloving. We thought she looked more like a man than a woman. She was all business, never a “good morning,” and generally unpleasant, we all thought.
Among her other duties, Mrs Grigsby cleaned the hallways and bathrooms of our dormitory. (Students were expected to keep our own rooms clean. What a joke.)
The guys in our dorm would make nasty jokes about Mrs Grigsby behind her back. She was a convenient target and no one spoke up in her defence.
One day my girlfriend back home in Alabama told me something unsettling.
‘I have a relative who works at the college where you go.’
She had never met her but was told this by her mother. A day or two later, she broke the news to me.
‘Her name is Grigsby.’
Yikes. My girlfriend was related to the campus nightmare.
How in the world was I to deal with this, I wondered. What if the word ever got out that I was in any way connected to that woman, however remote. What was I to do?
You know the rest of this story, I expect. In time, I introduced myself to Mrs Grigsby and discovered that she had the sweetest smile. She was unfriendly to the boys in the dorm because they were a pretty raucous bunch. Behind that façade was a nice lady.
It was a good lesson.
The Lord delights in putting into our paths people who are not like us, who do not like us, who seem strange–in order to knock us out of our little selfish ways.
Love this woman. Love this family. Love this tribe.
When we learn to love those we had previously written off, we grow and become a little more like Jesus. After all, He loved us when we stood around the cross spitting and jeering and cursing. That was us, you know.
Someone on Facebook asked the other day, “How will we know that someone we meet is the Lord appearing to us?” Various answers came in. The best answer was just two words: “In retrospect.”
Only after it’s over do we look back and realize that person who ministered to us, or allowed us to minister to them, or showed up at the critical moment, happened to be from the Lord. Or the Lord Himself.
Our job is to love everyone, friendly or not, gracious or not, deserving or not.
Joe McKeever has been a disciple of Jesus Christ more than 65 years, been preaching the gospel for more than 55 years, and has been writing and cartooning for Christian publications more than 45 years. He blogs at here.
Hallelujah Magazine is committed to publishing reliable, trusted, quality and independent Christian journalism. Our journalism is free from commercial bias and is not influenced by wealthy people, politicians, clerics or shareholders. We value our readers’ feedback, suggestions and opinions. Have something to add to the story? Share it in the comments below.