They still tease me about the time in high school when I got high and told them they were all going to hell.
I like to think that's not exactly how it happened. I do remember telling them I was afraid that they were going to hell, and I didn't want to spend eternity without them. I remember a huge weight being lifted off of my heart because I loved them so much and knew that, if what I believed about salvation was true, I needed to share it with them. I remember tears in my eyes and a deep urge to share the truth. I didn't want to carry the burden of their damnation.
What I know now (and that I can never seem to communicate) is that, although I may not have had the best methodology (drugs and potentially hurtful language, not surprisingly, get in the way of the message), it was the most loving thing I knew to do. Caring about a friend's soul is a deep kind of love. Even now, I don't think they understand that my words were coming from an amazing sense of love for them.
One of the greatest things about no longer being a Christian is that I can, genuinely, care about people's hearts and souls. I can care, not because I'm commanded to, but because I love them simply because we share in our humanity. I can love people because they're people, not because I feel it is my duty.
I can love them with no ulterior motive--perceived or actual.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
My most famous "witnessing" snafu
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7 comments:
I'm not sure if you meant this to be incredibly offensive, but it did come off that way.
It seems, ironically, that your judgment for your non-Christian friends has been replaced by judgment for your Christian friends - many of whom probably love you unconditionally.
Wow. Not at all. You completely misread my intention, and I'm sorry if I did not communicate it well. In fact, I was hoping to communicate the immense love that I felt for my friends that led me to share the gospel with them. When they were recently teasing me, I was trying to explain how intensely passionate I felt about what I was sharing with them, but I didn't feel they were hearing me, so I tried to write about it. That love was also accompanied with immense pressure, and I'm thankful to be free of that. I have PHENOMENAL Christian friends (I was just talking to a Christian friend about this), and I love them dearly (and understand the purity of their motives), but many non believers don't understand what it's like to be on the other side of the fence (which is why I mentioned the PERCEPTION of an ulterior motive).
I am genuinely sorry if this came off as offensive. I was writing about an experience particular to me, and I was hoping that it would resonate with others. I guess it didn't.
Also, I don't feel I'm judging anyone. If anything, I'm being hard on myself. I've always said that Christians had nothing to do with my decision to leave Christianity.
Sherry-You explained the meaning of your post well (I think you explained it well in your actual post, as well). You're one of the most loving, non-judgmental friends I've ever had. Thanks for sharing this story. :)
Thank you, Kimberly. Being judgmental is definitely something I struggle with, so hearing that from you means the world. Love you! Thanks for working through this rough weekend with me.
Yeah, I totally agree with Kim. When I think of you, judgmental is NOT one of the words that I think describes you. You are a great example of love!
Sherry, if you didn't intend this to be offensive, I accept that, and there is no apology necessary.
I guess I got hung up on the "One of the greatest things about no longer being a Christian . . ." section. It made it seem as though Christians were incapable of loving someone without an ulterior motive.
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