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Today I connected with my cousin, Gary, on Facebook. I lurked around on his “wall” a little bit, reading past statuses, and getting a general recap of what it’s like to talk to Gary.

Gary and I were raised in totally different circumstances. We lived in the same town, but had vastly different parents, schools, home life, etc. In fact, polar opposite would be a good way to describe the differences.

When I found him on Facebook, memories of our childhood came flooding back. Granted, we didn’t spend a whole lot of time together. But the time we did spend together, I remember vividly. 

I’ll be honest. I had a crush on him (well!! he was awful cute!), and I was completely freaked out all at the same time.  I was sweet and innocent (really … I was!), and attended a strict fundamental Baptist school. Gary was wild and into things I had only heard about in the form of a “good” hell fire and brimstone preaching fit.   

Maybe I didn’t know Gary that well growing up, but that didn’t lessen the sincere burden I felt for his spiritual condition. I remember praying quite often, that God would save Gary. I often felt it was hopeless … perhaps because I had never witnessed a dramatic conversion … and if Gary was ever converted, it was sure to be dramatic. Because I am confident that true salvation results in true change … and there would be a heap big amount of change that would take place in Gary’s life if he accepted Jesus.  

We each grew up (and I use that term loosely), moved away, got married, did all the things a body does in this lifetime. Just a few years back, he moved close to our hometown, where I visit two or three times per year. During thoses visits, he often comes to a family gathering, and brings his lovely wife and two children.

At the first gathering, I didn’t really know what to expect. Would he have long hair? A mohawk? Colored? Would he even have hair? Does this wife love him, unlike the previous two? Does he love his kids? Is he still wrapped up in the destructive lifestyle that burdened my heart for him years ago?

So many questions, all making me apprehensive.

But my apprehension was put to rest.

Oh, not at first site. Because Gary didn’t have any hair, was dressed in all black (albeit stylishly), and appeared the same ol’ eccentric, reserved, serious, and most peculiar, Gary. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to come to the conclusion that I was looking at a changed man.

Confusion, unease, and the sense of floundering no longer plagued his facial expressions. They were replaced with understanding, with thankfulness, and yes, with regret. But most of all, peace.

Don’t get me wrong. The path to spiritual healing for Gary hasn’t been an easy one, and it’s a path that he is still on. But that’s ok, because all of us are. The important part is that he’s on the path – the path that I long ago pleaded with Jesus to put him on.

I can’t say that Gary and I will ever like the same music, books, style of clothing, or even church denomination. But the important part is that Jesus saved me, and Jesus saved Gary. It’s not only written on his face, but on the face of his wife, and his two unspeakably precious children.

There are points of Christianity that are undebatable. They’re off limits, because they’re truth, and you can’t mess with the truth. But hairstyles and music preferences appropriately fall dimly into the background when Gary and I visit. Because the main thing … Jesus …  bonds us. Jesus … the missing link that allows two very different people from very different backgrounds to find common ground, a common goal in life, and the shared, precious knowing of what it is to be forgiven.

Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above. ~John Fawcett

I’m thankful for the tie that binds us by way of physical blood, but even moreso for the tie that binds us by way of Christ’s blood.