Love Them Where They Are

On a particularly crisp Autumn night, our meeting-room filled to capacity. There were no available seats left in the rows of tables arranged together to form a square. We started our meeting with the Serenity Prayer:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

This prayer, simple and beautiful, is the perfect guide to help orient us for our meetings. We are taught that we are powerless over everything except ourselves. What we do or do not do, is the only thing we can change. Acknowledging what needs to be changed is scary business. But it is the way forward. It’s what I call the cross.

I like to think of my group like penguins in a huddle, who form a circle around those who find themselves weak and vulnerable. Everyone of us has had our time in the middle of the circle. That time of safety and protection helped us rest and grow stronger allowing us to be able to move to the outside of the circle, giving someone new the protection that they need.

On this night, Jane Doe shared a very deep dark secret. Her voice shook. Her face tinged with varying shades and splotches of pink. She stammered. With each word spoken, she honed in on our facial expressions, moving her glance around the rows of seats gauging our reactions.

I watched our group receive this confession too. Heads nodded to affirm her feelings. Eyes held her gaze as if to say, ‘we are with you.’ There were no shocked responses to be seen. It was as if we were each, arm locked in arm, all the way around the room so that on both sides of her, a life-line was there to hold her up.

Looking into the eyes of acceptance, her voice gathered strength. She let out an audible deep breath that she’d been holding. She began to relax in the silence surrounding her in this room. The woman sitting next to me whispered, “I’m crushed for her.” I felt like I was on holy ground.

My spiritual director listened as I relayed this account to her. “I wish I could tell this story. I see so many well-meaning people out in the world who are so worried about telling people ‘the rules’ as if they don’t know them already.”

I remember when my loved one struggled with addiction, a counselor told us that our loved one already knew that what he was doing was wrong. “He’s been raised.” He was reminding us that we’d done our part now it was his turn to decided how to live his life. Could we just love him, right where he was, until he could love himself?

“Tell the story. The story is important because Jesus embodied your group while Jane Doe shared. That allowed healing to happen.” I kept thinking about her advice and how I could share this story. Then I remembered something very important.

In the spiritual exercises, we begin by being reminded of the unconditional love of God. We start there. We are loved beyond our fears, beyond our shame, beyond our worst offense by the transformative love of God. If we are rooted in that love–beyond, then we know that it is safe to reach out to God, sharing where we’ve fallen short.

Once our meeting was over, Jane Doe spoke of relief. There was no shame left to keep her distant from this group. And when she shared with us, I think it may have returned her to herself too. Isn’t that what reconciliation does for us?

I wonder what would have happened if Jane Doe was met with someone reminding her of how wrong her actions were. What would have happened? Would she have come back? Or would her shame force her to stay in isolation?

My group loved this person right where she was. They surrounded her when the meeting was over offering support. I think love has more power than anything else on earth. I know this because I have been the recipient of it more than I deserve.