Ragamuffins

To love like God, is to love someone for who they are, good, bad, all of them. To look at them not in light of what they do or don't do. The sophisticated adult in me shudders and is reluctant to offer hospitality to others. They may be carrying precious gifts under their shabby rags, but I still prefer clean-shaven Christians who are neatly attired, properly pedigreed, and who affirm my vision, echo my thoughts, stroke me, and make me feel good. Yet, my inner child protests: "I want new friends, not old mirrors"

This story shows the love of God in action.

One sweltering summer night in New Orleans, sixteen recovering alcoholics and drug addicts gather for their weekly AA meeting. Although several members attend other meetings during the week, this is their home group. They have been meeting on Tuesday nights for several years and know each other well. Some talk to each other daily on the telephone, others socialize outside the meetings. The personal investment in another's sobriety is sizable. Nobody fools anybody else. Everyone is there because he or she made a slobbering mess of his or her life and is trying ot put the pieces back together. Each meeting is marked by levity and seriousness. Some members are wealthy, others middle class or poor. Some smoke, others don't. Most drink coffee. Some have graduate degrees, others have not finished high school. For one small hour the high and the mighty descend and the lowly rises the result is fellowship.
The meeting opened with the Serenity Prayer followed by a moment of silence. The prologue to Alcoholics Anonymous was read from the Big Book by Harry followed by the Twelve Steps of the program from Michelle. that night, Jack was the appointed leader. "Theme I would like to talk about tonight is gratitude," he began, "but if anyone wants to talk about something else, let's hear it."
Immediately Phil's hand shot up.
"As you all know, last week I went up to Pennsylvania to visit family and missed the meeting. You also know I have been sober for seven years. last Monday I got drunk and stayed drunk for five days." The only sound in the room was the drip of Mr. Coffee in the corner. "you all know the buzz word, H.A.L.T., in this program," he continued. "Don't let yourself get hungry, angry, lonely, or tired or you will be very vulnerable for the first drink. The last three got to me. I unplugged the jug and.."
Phil's voice choked and he lowered his head. I glanced around the table-moist eyes, tears of compassion, soft sobbing the only sound in the room.
"The same thing happened to me, Phil, but I stayed drunk for a year."
"Thank God you're back,"
"Boy that took a lot of guts."
"Relapse spells relief, Phil," said a substance abuse counselor. "Let's get together tomorrow and figure out what you needed relief from and why."
"I'm so proud of you."
"Hell, I never made even close to seven years."
As the meeting ended, Phil stood up. He felt a hand on his shoulder, another on his face. Then kisses on his eyes, forehead, neck, and cheek. "You old ragamuffin," said Denise. "Let's go. I'm treating you to a banana split at Tastee-Freeze."





"Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another. For he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the Torah (the law)."
-Romans 13:8