Prostitute, Tax Man, LGBT, and Me

Innocently, the "Lady with Scissors" nonchalantly asks, "So, who are you?"  As I sit perched in the salon chair, I feel like a little hummingbird, with a hawk swooping overhead waiting to snag me for a snack.  Nothing comes out. My mind is suddenly on steroids zinging all over the place! No coherent answer seems to be able to form. I start to panic.  Temporary paralyzation is occurring.  I am sure the contorted look on my face is one that is not easily replicated.  

How could one simple question make my panties bunch up so quickly? The "Lady with Scissors" continues snipping my hair.  I can't blame her.  She is just trying to make small talk; to make the awkward silence pass.  Truly though, she is not interested.  So, why am I so paralyzed?  

An hour later, as I analyze this entire event, I am aware that I could've given her any number of simple, one or two word answers - Teacher, Librarian, Daughter, Mom, Friend, Spotted Zebra, etc., but on this day, in this moment, I just couldn't.  So I said nothing and sat there with salty, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Instantly a selective mute. (Funny how quickly the haircut is over when silence sets in and the tears start.)

It isn't that I don't know who I am or what I have been called to do.  It is just that I suddenly realized that none of these "labels or titles" really matter in life and death.  So, I sit here asking myself some daunting questions, "How do I live without my own labels and without giving others labels?" "How do I love my neighbor without any of the labels?"  

My ponderance leads me to my most favorite, soft brown leather book. I love the way this book sits in my hands.  It lays open perfectly and brings life to my soul.  My eyes fall to the words, and I have my answer. 

I am to simply love the one who created me and love my "Neighbor". I pause for a moment to let it soak all the way in. He is implying that my "Neighbor" is EVERYONE else - no labels, just people.  

Jesus loved the lady prostitute that the religious elite were going to stone to death.  He protected her.  He ate with the tax collector, before the tax collector knew he would want his sins forgiven. He restored the soldier's ear, the one who had come to take him as a prisoner and to His death.  This is who Jesus called His "Neighbor".  This is who Jesus loved. This is who I am invited to love. His love has no "labels or titles". It is offered to EVERY human without judgement.

My Jesus is for the broken and hurting. Religion says, "Change first and then come."  Jesus says, "Come and let me love you."  He has invited me to be His hands and feet on this amazing adventure of loving people. He offers me the opportunity to love humans the way He loves me.  

So, when you see me hug and eat with my LGBT friends; or the prostitute who just "got off work"; or the biker lady that wanders in; or any other human, please know that I am loving them with the incredible love that has been extended to me and forever changed my life.  

Until We Chat Again,
The Plank-Eyed Girl