It rained

As a walked to church it rained - it really rained! And I hated the rain. The church was welcoming enough, my church, my people, my space, space to be quiet on Good Friday. And then he came and sat next to me. I did not notice it as first, at first he was just an unfamiliar disciple. But the stench was undeniable, unremitting, making every moment of my quiet reflection uncomfortable, regretted. Could I not have prayed at home? Then it struck me, and it hurt. Jesus, to whom he was also a stranger, died for him, this man sitting quietly next to me. While I wanted to run away from an excess of stale alcohol, Jesus died. For a friend, one might die, for a young women with potential and her life in front of her, yes perhaps, but ........

Jesus did!

We left church together and the rain was ligher then.