It was my first year in college when there had been some uprising in the Middle East. I lived in an apartment building on the sixth floor with my roommate. On the third floor, rooming together, were three friends of mine. They were like the younger version of the Golden Girls minus Blanche. That being the case, I'll use those names instead of their real ones. 'Rose' was six feet tall, very country and kind hearted, with just a touch of naivete about life. 'Sophia' was exactly like the character. A short, passively-feisty, Italian girl who was somewhat shy until you got to know her. She reminded me of a mix between a bulldog and a beagle. 'Dorothy' was opinionated, strong willed, driven, kind and severely Christian. It was a fun combination of friends to be around. This was a time in my life, where I was beginning my struggles with God. Again, I believed and hoped, but wasn't committed as firmly as I should have been.
Dorothy had invited me to various evening lectures by various Christian leaders. One had been Josh McDowell (I think that's how you spell his name). Anyway, I think that it was his story that helped to turn the tide for me. So, Dorothy and I would have conversations about God at different times. Rose and Sophia were not as 'convicted' as Dorothy. Good people, kind, but not as 'rigid' in their thinking about God.
Anyway, Dorothy had been watching the news, very concerned about the conflict in the Middle East. The rest of us were not too involved. We were going home for spring break. I was going to ride with Dorothy, Rose and Sophia had other rides. It was the morning of the day we were leaving to go home. Dorothy came up to my apartment, looking very serious. Back in those days, packing wasn't such a huge ordeal, so I was just stuffing a sweatshirt into my tiny suitcase, when I heard the knock.
I opened the door, and Dorothy, almost in a military march, moved past me into the kitchen.
"We need to talk." "Okay, what's wrong?" (To be honest, my first thought was 'are you still taking me home?' because it would have been too late to find another ride and I really wanted to get home.) "Have you been listening to the news?" "No. Why?" With a long and detailed explaination, the jist of it was that Dorothy was convinced, well almost certain, that this lastest conflict in the Middle East could be the sign that the Rapture would be happenening soon. "The what?" She explained what it was, and then went on to say that she knew her parents weren't saved, and that she had written a letter to them. She had considered giving it to me to give to them, but in her words, "I'm not too sure about what's going to happen to you." I was taking it all in, not to sure what it all meant, but her seriousness about the whole situation warned me that there was no room for arguement or joking.
Feeling uneasy, now, about being alone (my roommate had already left) I picked up my suitcase, turned off the lights and locked the door. We left the apartment to go downstairs to her's where Sophia and Rose were still getting ready. She had decided to give the letter to Rose to give to her parents.
I followed her into the apartment. Rose and Sophia were in the kitchen. I said hi to everyone, and then stood and watched the expressions as Dorothy explained her plan. She handed the letter to Rose, and left to finish packing. A complete look of confusion came over Rose's face. "Why did she give this to me? Isn't she going to see her parents?" "Did you understand about what she thinks is going to happen?" "I guess." "Well, she thinks that her parents are going to be 'staying'. She's not too sure about me, or I would have the letter. But she's sure about you." I watched as the intention of what her new responsibility was implying, finally 'sunk in.' Rose's expression changed from bewilderment, to understanding to insulted, "Hey!" "Yep. She's going and you're staying." It was the first time that I could laugh about a situation that I was finding very surreal.
Fast forward to the ride home. Dorothy was driving and I was in the passenger's seat feeling more and more nervous and unsure. I didn't do much of the talking. Dorothy was focused on her reasoning. (Really, what do you talk about in the car when one of you might be taken in the rapture any second). I have to admit, I was preparing to grab the wheel should she depart during the ride home. Then it happened. We hit a pothole. I am a pretty reserved and quiet person. I'm not a screamer. But I screamed loud and clear when we hit that pothole. The tension had built up so much in me, being a captive audience to her reasoning, that I couldn't contain it anymore. I must have closed my eyes for a few seconds, because I remember realizing that we had stopped, but that the radio was still playing. I opened my eyes, realized my hands were over my mouth, and turned to see Dorothy looking at me like I had three heads. "What is wrong with you?" I just bit my lips and shook my head. My hands resting limply in my lap. "We hit a pothole." I nodded. There was no damage and the tire was fine, so we continued on our journey. Needless to say, the rapture was postponed.
I think about that event a lot. Why did I allow myself to get so caught up in someone else's drama? I think about how one person can be so driven in a direction that may not be the best, and pull others along. I do think she was truly worried about her parents. I do admire her conviction, but not her methods. Not her judgement.
How do I apply this to my experience with addiction? Well, allowing myself to get pulled into other people's drama, but that can happen anywhere. The most important for me is the judgment that Dorothy handed out. Making judgments can be necessary. Judging safe from unsafe is important. Judging what you like, we do that all of the time. But judging someone's interior, making a judgment about someone's heart and feelings is harmful to everyone. The person handing down the judgement, as well as the person being judged. That friendship between Dorothy and Rose did fizzle and that morning was the cause. When I do find myself starting to get sucked into that kind of judgement, my first thought is always, "Only God knows someone's heart," and I let it go.
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