I recently saw a friend I hadn’t seen for a while. We hadn’t fought, but there had been some emotion and misunderstanding over a scheduled get-together.
But there we were, hugging and smiling and beaming at each other when she asked if I hated her. I had to laugh; at this point in our relationship, I can’t imagine doing anything but loving her. Her bluntness and impetuousness are a part of the beautiful woman she is.
Our time together included some spiritual sharing, a lot of laughter, and some tasty food. I 
contemplated on the way home just why it is that with those I truly know and love, faults aren’t a big deal. One friend has every intention of following through on plans and promises, but seldom does. I still love her. Another forgets to return books and other tangible goods lent to her. I still love her. Another sees no reason to try to understand the tenents of our faith beyond what she hears in church on Sunday. I still love her. It doesn’t matter that they’re not perfect; each and every one of them is special to me and a gift to the world.
It occurred to me that they might say the same thing about me, that they love me perhaps because of, not in spite of, my outspokenness, my obsessions, my overanalysis of practically everything, just as God does. And while our dearest friends, like God, delight in our victories, they don’t cast us aside for our failures. It’s when we fail to try that we distance ourselves from them… and from him.
I also resolved to try anew to love in the same way those whose flaws annoy me. After all, God does.
