The Stone Rabbit and the Glass Man: The Rest of the Story

People always ask Richmond whether or not he was named after the city in Virginia. Honestly, I don't remember whether he was or not -- I only mention it to assure you that yes, that is his real name.

Richmond and I were members of the same debate club in high school. When the club discussions became too serious, overly tense, or just plain boring, we took it upon ourselves to interject arguments about the Star Wars universe, or perhaps mythical creatures. One time we succeeded in pulling the entire club into an extended debate regarding the superiority of unicorns over dragons, a day my younger sister still remembers with glee. I'm fairly certain our debate coach felt differently about the matter.

Richmond is one of the people I call a "best friend", a distinction held by few and desired by even fewer. We read the same books, laugh at the same (usually dumb) jokes, and share a deep love for stylish hats. When there's girl trouble, we discuss it with each other. To the objective observer this might seem like a bad idea, given that neither of us has had any romantic success whatsoever. Somehow, though, we have each maintained the belief that the other understands something about the female species that we do not. Perhaps that's the reason for our lack of success. In any case, discussing our respective girl troubles ensures that we stay in regular contact with each other.

All of these things, however, are only symptoms of the strength of our friendship. The root cause of it is the honesty we share. Lots of people glibly state that honesty is the best policy, but Richmond and I try to actually live it out in our friendship. Our mutual agreement is essentially that while silence is preferable to falsehood, truth is always preferable to silence. We don't always enjoy hearing the truth. "Well, that was stupid" is a piece of wisdom we've shared with each other on several occasions. It's not that we harbor ill will towards one another -- we simply don't mince words when discussing serious matters.

The trust such a policy allows us to share is one of the key factors in our friendship's strength. I can speak honestly with Richmond about any personal matter, because I know that he will do the same with me. From girl trouble to college worries to faith struggles, I can be sure that Richmond will give me his real opinion, whether it is total agreement or pure disgust.

I think that's one of the reasons I'm drawn to Christ. Scripture says a lot about truth. Jesus even goes so far as to say that He is the Truth -- not merely that He knows the Truth, or even that He tells the Truth, but that He himself is the ultimate answer to our questions. It is in Him and through Him that we can find our way.

People weave lies all the time. They're little white lies to prevent hurt feelings, they're elaborate rainbow lies to explain a missed deadline, they're transparent omissions to smooth things over. There have been times I have looked into a person's eyes and couldn't help but wonder what the last lie he told was, and why he told it, and whether he was lying at that moment. It's tiresome. In Christ, however, we find rest and refuge because He will never betray our trust. Such a thing would simply go against His nature.

In turn, it's important to be entirely honest with Christ. This begins with confession of sins, usually. The Christian walk is a process and a relationship, though, not a one-time event. As we continue, Scripture encourages us to regularly cast our cares upon Christ. It's only right; my teachers expect participation in class, Richmond and my other friends expect honesty from me. Why shouldn't God, the Wonderful Counselor and Friend closer than a brother, expect us to practice such trust in Him? We speak truth to Him, because He is Truth to us.

Of course, I don't always enjoy hearing the Truth. Jesus tells us some pretty crazy things, you know? "Turn the other cheek", "go the extra mile", "take up your cross." It's all very intimidating, as though I'm an elementary school student who has suddenly found himself sitting in a college philosophy class. Some days I skip class, and some days I tell Jesus I'm just not interested in what He has to say. Yet there He stands, and there He always draws me back to Himself. In being the Truth, He has become my Way and my Life.