I know we’ve only spoken two or three times. Four at the most. I know I don’t really know you all except for your first name and that you have long brown hair and wear dark rimmed glasses.

You seemed quiet and kind. At least to me. You also struck me as being very pretty. Not the kind of beauty that shouts and parades itself, but the kind that often goes unnoticed by most. But I saw it.

You’ve gotten into deep trouble. Your shame was broadcast and published in a tawdry little rag for thousands to witness. By the way, your mug shot doesn’t do you justice. Not by a long shot.

I want you to know two things:

First of all, I am still your friend. You were kind to me when others weren’t and always spoke to me, even though for you it was the end of a long day for you. I’m still praying for you and hoping and wishing the best for you.

Second, I want you to know that Jesus loves you right now, where you are and just as you are. He sees your mistakes and bad choices and has chosen to love you amyway.

He came to the world for people like you and I. People who just can’t seem to get it right. People who so often want to do good but end up doing the very things they hate.

All Jesus is looking for is the smallest place in your life to start something amazing. Who knows? Maybe one day this most embarrassing and shaming moment will be the first part of your testimony of how God rescued and redeemed you.

His birth in a messy manger proves that there is no mess too ugly and no place too dark and dreary for Him to go to find people loke you and me.

I’m thinking of you, rooting for you, praying for you and as blessed as ever to consider myself,

Your friend

Greg