When I Fell in Love

We had just sat through a lecture on “The Problem of Evil and Suffering” presented by Mr. John Stonestreet. The lesson addressed the question “If your God is such a good God, why does he let bad things happen?” By the end of the speech we really didn’t have a good answer. I felt like he had just left us hanging. The girl who sat behind me, Barbara, was in tears. Most everyone left to go enjoy their hour of free time before small group. Barbara didn’t move. I came and sat next to her, put my arm around her and prayed. Matt sat on the other side of her and held her hand, praying for comfort. She murmured a few words over her tears. About half an hour later she gave us all hugs and thanked us for being there for her. She left with her friend to enjoy the remains of free time. Ashley, Matt and I got up and left the auditorium. He held the door for the two of us ladies and we chatted as we walked across the dark parking lot. About halfway to the Student Life Center, I noticed that Matt was no longer walking with us. I stopped and looked around. I saw a silhouette sitting, head in hands, on a park bench under a tree. I told Ashley I would catch up with her later, and she nodded understandingly. I walked back to the bench. As I approached, the young man sitting there looked up at me, his face soaked with tears. Without a word, I sat down next to him. I put my hand on his right shoulder and laid my head on his other. He reached for my hand, held it in his, and continued to cry.

“Dear Lord,” I prayed silently, “I don’t know what’s going on with Matt right now. I don’t know what I can say or do to help him. Please hold him. Let him know how much you love him and that you are there for him. Please comfort him right now. Help him work through whatever it is that he’s dealing with. Amen.”
I continued lay on his shoulder, not knowing what to say, so I said nothing. Sometimes it means more than anything in the world just to know that you are not alone. Several minutes went by. Ten, maybe? Possibly fifteen. After drying some tears and taking a breath, he began to talk. He told me what he was dealing with, struggling with, fighting against, afraid of, and running from. He poured out his heart to me. I said nothing. What could I say to that? He told me about how the lecture that night had not helped him, but made him doubt that which he had always accepted. How he was fighting, struggling, and crying for answers. I spoke. I told him I understood what he was saying, and really didn’t have any insightful words of advice because I was in more-or-less the same place. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. I could hear his heart beat. I could feel him breathing. His tears fell from his face to mine. I gently held him, my hand on his arm. I began to cry. No, I could not cry. That wouldn’t help him at all. He glanced down at his dark blue watch. We were quite late for small group. We had been sitting there for over an hour. He released me, stood up, and offered me his hand. We walked up the long white sidewalk, hand in hand, until the sidewalk split… the right path going towards the girls’ dorms, and the left path to the guys. This is where, for that evening, our paths parted. He turned and looked at me. He said I was a wonderful listener, and that that meant more to him than anything in the world. He gave me a hug, telling me how glad he was that he met me… that I was amazing and meant so much to him. I felt another tear. This one was mine. I kept myself from crying and managed to tell him how glad I was that God put him in my life. We made a promise to see each other at breakfast the next morning, and then let our fingers slip apart. He went on to his group, and I to mine. That is the night I fell in love.