They couldn't bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, so they dug a hole through the roof above his head. Then they lowered the man on his mat, right down in front of Jesus. Mark 2:4

Imagine Jesus on a book tour. Scheduled to appear at your local library. I can imagine my nervous anticipation of what he would say to me.

Me.

I think of Jesus at the library and I think of the possible blessing of my meeting him, talking to him, shaking his hand. Would I find the nerve to ask him to sign his book to me? Take a selfie with me?

A lot of me.

I remember a period in college in which I struggled with discouragement and depression. I began reading through the Bible. I was in a phase of self-pity and distinctly recall feeling lonely while reading the story in Mark about friends who carried their friend to Jesus to be healed. I felt alone and struck by a sadness that, as I felt at the time, no one was there in my life to carry me to Jesus.

Me. A lot of me.

Our neighbor and friend here in North Central Kansas invited us to help ourselves to mulberries from her backyard tree. She left a ladder out for us. We've been in days of a heat wave so we went over one morning to pick mulberries. The tree was covered with berries. The sun shone through the leaves and my fingers turned burgundy from the harvest. The birds sang. It was lovely up there on the ladder, in dappled shade and tasting the fresh picked mulberries. It turned an ordinary day into an extraordinary gift given us by a nice friend.

And I imagine becoming as generous a friend. How much does all of that me get in the way?

Jesus is there at the library but a friend needs to meet him more. Look at those friends from the gospel of Mark. They had Jesus right there where they could meet him. Could anything compare to walking up to the teacher Jesus and talking to him? But their friend needed to meet Jesus more. So, really picture this, they carried their friend on a mat. Heavy work of lifting. The weight of the friend on the mat rubbing red marks into their fingers. The muscle strain and soreness in their arms. Being overwhelmed by the size of the crowd. Straining and seeking a way to get their friend to Jesus. Refusing to give up. Carrying their friend up to the top of the roof and digging, clawing to make an opening big enough to lower their friend down through the roof, with fatigued arms but with faith and purpose, to Jesus.

Can I imagine myself being equally less about me? Is the secret to letting go of self for friends the act of faith? To know Jesus is with me so focus on helping others get in front of him?

I don't know how to be that selfless. I do know that life and loss and seeking changed me over the years from longing to be carried by friends to wishing to be the friend doing the carrying. I've also learned bringing friends to an awareness of the joy of God can be as simple an act as sharing fruit.