Just Because

My eyes widened in surprise and pleasure as I recognized my friend's voice on the phone. She's a friend I dearly love, but we live long-distance and don't stay in close touch. "How are you doing?" she asked. "I heard about the death of your grandmother and have been thinking about you."

I told her about my sadness but also my rejoicing over the fullness of my grandmother's life, and we continued to catch up on old friends, kids and church. I started to wonder when we'd get to the reason for her call. Finally, there was a pause, and she explained that she'd need to go back to her work day in a minute.

I was stunned. That was it. There was no other agenda or hidden need. My friend had just carved out the time in her day to call me and check on me.

She's a young widow whose precious husband died suddenly. She is dealing with raising children alone, running a business that they used to manage as a couple and all the other curve-balls that life inevitably generates. Yet she made time in her day just to check in with me.

My friend explained that after her husband's death, worship time at church was the time when the flood-gates of grief opened. She would often stand and cry throughout the service, pouring out her heart to God and receiving healing from Him. There was one woman who often sat by her and silently held her hand.

One woman.

In silence.

Offering the ministry of presence.

A profound gift.

My friend said, "I've learned how much sharing time means. If I can only run by and take a cake, I do it. All of life's busyness can be overwhelming, but I make time for people now. People are the most important thing."

I thought of how my friend reflects Jesus--of how Jesus made people more important than His list. Think of the people for whom He stopped and carved out time:

The woman at the well.

Zacheus.

The woman with the issue of blood.

His disciples.

Mary at His feet.

The list could go on and on. As I write, I glance at the stack of legal pads at my elbow. Each pad is for a different area of my life, and the front page is a list. A long list. Lines and lines of things to do.

Maybe I need to change my lists and leave room at the top--room for names instead of tasks. Here's my new first line on my checklist. "Be more like Jesus. Make people the most important thing today."