I Choose Love

Yesterday was my pastor J’s* last day working at my church. Last month, she announced that she was going to step down from her position because of some issues that had been going on in the church. Lots of people disagreed with her leadership, and the church was starting to suffer for it. J had been thinking about it for a while, and she knew deep down in her heart that her decision was in the church’s best interest. But still, I know it must have been an incredibly painful decision, and I am in awe of her selflessness and strength. 

On Sunday, J gave her last sermon at my church. During the children’s message, she showed everyone a very special item from her “mystery bag.” The mystery item turned out to be a teddy bear that I’d made for J when she was having surgery a few weeks ago. She talked about how special that bear is to her because it reminds her that she is loved. I was in awe. J was facing hostility from all sides, yet she’d never forgotten that simple act of love. That’s because J was seeing things from God’s perspective. 

It’s amazing how much things change when you see them through God’s eyes. We realize that most of the things that divide us really don’t matter. It’s like getting on a plane and looking at the city down below. What once appeared to be a towering skyscraper now looks like a tiny speck. 

I remember the day I found out that J was quitting her job. It was Halloween, and I was visiting a friend, L*, who had just had a baby. L and I were talking about church when I happened to mention J. Suddenly, L’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Did you get the email?” she asked. 

“What email?” My heart started to race. I knew this couldn’t possibly be good. 

That afternoon, J had sent out an email explaining that she’d be stepping down from her position in less than a month. (J would have told me earlier, of course, except she wasn’t allowed to do so.) I remember driving back home, sobbing and sniffling. 

I. Was. Heartbroken. 

“Why?” I shouted to God. “Why would You let this happen?” Why did those people have to ruin everything with their hate and intolerance? Couldn’t they see what a great pastor J was? 

But then I realized...I was part of the problem, too. 

No, I‘d never bad-mouthed my pastor or questioned her leadership. But I was just as responsible as anyone else for the culture of division in my church. A few months earlier, I had a dispute with some friends over something that one of them had said about my sensory issues. My pride had escalated the situation from a minor misunderstanding to a full-blown argument. I was angry and upset—how could my friends not understand what I was going through? Wasn’t my perspective important? But I didn’t even stop to consider their perspective until the night my world was flipped upside-down. 

As a person with ADHD, I’ve spent a large portion of my life feeling misunderstood. I’ve always known that I experience the world differently than most people, but it’s only been a few years since I found out why. I used to be ashamed of my condition, but now I know that I have to be my own advocate. But I have to remember to advocate for others, too. I know what it feels like to be invalidated, so I have no excuse for treating others that way. Ever. 

Immediately, I knew what I had to do. I needed to set things right. As soon as I got back in town, I rushed over to my friend’s house, where her family was still handing out Halloween candy. I apologized, they forgave me, and we made up. But of course, we had (and still have) a lot of work to do. 

That night, I decided that pride and hate would have no place in my heart. I wasn’t going to further the same attitude problems that had caused me (and those around me) so much heartache. Regardless of our differences, God is big enough to love and accept everyone. And as a follower of God, I should be willing to do the same. Because that’s what the Gospel is all about, isn’t it? Loving people—no matter what. 

*Names withheld to protect privacy