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I See the Christ in You, My Friend

I See the Christ In You, My Friend

I have a dear friend. If she were to describe herself to you she would probably say she is a recovering addict. When I look at her, I don’t see that at all. I know she is recovering. But I also know that while that may be what she is doing, that is not what she is. From the moment I met her, I knew she was a teacher of God, and that is all that I see. When she calls to express her frustration at not being able to apply forgiveness in a particular circumstance, I talk her through it, but I never, for an instant, think of her as anything less than a teacher of God. Sometimes she gets down on herself and we talk about it, but nothing she says about herself alters in any way how I think of her. I think that must be close to what it means to see the Christ in someone. Certainly, that is what I mean when I say I will pray for you. I mean I will hold the light of certainty until you can join me in it.

Someone else I love very dearly is deeply depressed. This is not the first time it has happened, but this time it is different for me.  I have been very concerned, just as I was before when it happened. This time, though, I am not feeling afraid and helpless. I am not praying frantically for a miracle to make everything right. I am not feeling pressured to fix her life for her.  She is just as depressed as she has ever been and I love her just as much as I ever have. The difference is that I have a certainty about who she is.

I have examined my own feelings in this very closely because it seems strange to me to feel so differently than I have in the past. My ego wants to know where the fear and panic are and keeps inviting me to return to the familiar. But I can’t. I know this woman is a Son of God. However she chooses to learn her lessons in this illusion, nothing changes that. “And what if she chooses death while you stand around and do nothing,” my ego taunts. Of course I know that is a possibility, and if it happened I would grieve for the rest of this life. I would so miss having her precious body and personality here with me, but I no longer believe in death and I know that I can’t really lose her.

I have taken reasonable steps to help her through this crisis. I wish she were more open to my help and that I could say something to her that would help her to see things differently. But perhaps that is my lesson in all of this. What I say to her is not nearly so important as the light I hold for her. Perhaps it is my part to just know with absolute certainty that who she is is unassailable, and that nothing she can feel or do will change it.

I have always been a fixer. When someone or something is broke, I waste little time on lamenting it. I just start looking for ways to fix or replace. My first thought is always, “What do I need to do to make this right.” It seems strange not to react in that way, and I have to remind myself that I’m not slacking off. I have to remind myself that while doing has a place in the illusion, knowing is reaction of a higher order. My gift to this woman is my knowing who she is. I give that gift gladly. I gladly accept it’s gift to me as I move through the dream in peace.

© 2004, Pathways of Light. https://www.pathwaysoflight.org
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