Thursday, January 22, 2004

The Girl My Mom Would Have Wanted Me to Marry







Beth is the one friend I have who can talk to me all the day long about God and faith, with me still finding the conversation quite interesting, even compelling. She can recite, at length, Bible verses, and still come out in my mind like the Rock Star I think she really is.



The thing with most people, when they come to talk about their personal God, they become implicated in their own self-righteousness, with that sickening holier-than-thou attitude that ultimately sinks whatever holy intentions they have. I remember one lost high school buddy (let's call him A.) who had experimented with all the major religions since freshman year high school. Finally, he found Protestantism after Buddhism didn't work that much for him.



A. sat me down one afternoon in the college cafeteria, and said, "Ian, I have some important news for you. You're going to hell if you do not accept Jesus Christ right now as your personal Lord and Savior." And proceeded to lecture me on all things I have already learned since childhood. (I was already a Protestant!) A. eventually disappeared from all our lives, and the last thing we heard of him, he was in Mindanao sporting an Osama Bin Laden beard looking for our friend Jo. Jo's family thought he was with the Abu Sayyaf. Some said A. is now the leader of a cult.



But let's get back to Beth. She manages to make faith (not religion -- to make matters clear: both are completely different) seem hip, even fun. She always has this air of joy around her, and never lets her own Godly devotion get in the way of friendship with a more secular person (me). She can party with the rest of us, but always moderately. Her "no" for a few more bottles of beer is always cute, but very firm. She gets crushes, and dishes out as well. She loves you for who you are.



A few years ago, before we all graduated from college, she invited me back to church-going after my not having done so for many years. (Which was the typical evolution of any Sunday School Brat. I was so churchy as a kid that when I hit adolescence, angst took over so completely I refused all my mother's invitations to go for church Sunday morning.)



I gave Beth an unhesitating "yes" to her invitation, which surprised even me. But later, I found the experience thrilling, and exhilarating, like finding a long lost love. And to date, a week is never complete for me without at least a prayer, or service at Bread of Life, Beth's church and now mine.



Thanks, Beth, for embodying my idea of the perfect Christian testimony. And belated happy birthday, girl. I love you so much.


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich

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