My family is sitting second row for a Clemson home game. I knew it was going to be noisy. I expected it. But, there’s a man behind us who knows everything and won’t stop yelling into the back of my head. Part of me wishes he’d just put on a jersey and show us all how the game should be played. And just when I don’t think he can get any more obnoxious—he does. The refs make a few bad calls against our beloved team, and he loses it! “What’s wrong with you, ref?” Then—at the top of his lungs—he yells a long-winded “Boooo!” at every play for the rest of the game. I agree with his assessment, but I’m more irritated with Mr. Boo Fan than the refs because he’s keeping me from appreciating my second-row seats!

We all fail our friends.  We say things we don’t mean.  We are habitually inconsiderate and rude, easily offended and hurt.  We withdraw and give up when we should pursue and work through a problem.  But this doesn’t mean we are bad people.  It means we are imperfectly human. 

“Why is it so hard for me to make friends?”  And the Holy Spirit answered, “No one is perfect Sharie, and neither are you.”

I try not to hurt my friends, but I do.  When I realize what I’ve done, my first hope is for them to love, listen, forgive and give me the benefit of the doubt.  Don’t we all want to be understood and forgiven?  This is what it means to believe the best.