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Friend of Mine
We all make mistakes. Some mistakes are outright and visible, some are hidden and secret and some we hide, even from ourselves. Pretending like we are perfect. I grew up in amazing home. Dad and mom loved each other, we went camping as a family, and I heard something about Jesus every day. I remember the first time that I realized how much I needed Jesus. I was 8 or 9 years old. I liked stickers, and I stole some off of my teacher’s desk. My mom asked me where I had gotten them from and I told her, “Off of the floor.” That evening as our family watched our routine episode of Bill Cosby, I started feeling quite guilty as the Cosby family dealt with an issue of a liar in the household. I ran up to my room crying, feeling horrible that I had lied and stolen. My parents talked with me about it and in the end I chose to believe that it was only through Jesus and His love and grace that I would be able to live a life free from the guilt of sin.

Now somewhere in between that moment and last year I somehow got the mind set that it was shameful to need Jesus. It was more of a quiet embarrassment. You know church alter calls; where the pastor asks if anyone needs prayer to come up after the end of the service. Well, every time I saw an individual walk up there I always thought, “I wonder what their problem is? The reality is we all need Jesus. Honestly every Sunday we should all be storming the alter with arms around one another, praying that we will follow him more and more each day.

Jesus, what a friend to sinners.
He’s so patient gracious and kind.
He’s healing the blind.
Oh, Jesus, what a friend to sinners.
Full of grace and truth and love.
Oh, Jesus, He’s a friend of mine.