I walked into GeVonee’s office yesterday and she said two words that stopped me cold.

Be nice.

I laughed. She knows I’m always nice. And GeVonee (JEE-VAN-nee)? She’s the best at it. Sweet disposition, prickly side, one you’d rather not see. She’s been my friend long enough to give me grief and mean it as affection.

She also took a little over a year to fix an email problem I had. I asked her about it almost every day until it was done. She considers me a problem child. I consider that fair. If she weren’t a friend, I wouldn’t torture her about it. But she is. So I do.

Be nice, she said. Like a joke. Like a sermon. That’s not a stretch, not from a woman whose father was a Marine and a pastor. She’s a product of toughness and tenderness, discipline and grace.

It reminded me of Roadhouse. Dalton’s whole philosophy. Be nice until it’s time to not be nice. Simple. Confident. Doesn’t waste a word.

Be nice? Does love have an exit strategy?

We talked about family and kids and Easter. Then books and writing. Then it took a hard left to integrity. She said, you only do what you see others do. If our leaders are standing up for what’s right, others will follow.

That’s GeVonee. Straight up. Tell it like it is. No matter what, tell the truth.

Dalton showed up with an exit strategy.

Jesus showed up loving others, leading by example. That was the whole point.

Showing up is a choice. So is paying attention. So is being kind when it costs you something. Because that’s who you choose to be.

Even when it’s hard. Even when love means being kind to people who are being mean and cruel.

1 Corinthians 13 says I will be kind and polite, and want the best for others. I will accept their problems. I will always believe them and hope for what’s best for them.

I walked out of GeVonee’s office carrying more than I came in with. And it felt good. It only happens when two people actually show up for each other. We spent the few minutes we had with each other listening. Paying attention. Showing up. All we had was our presence. It was more than enough.

It costs something to be there when it’s hard. I know that. I remember being the new kid in school and how hard it was. For years I chose to be the unofficial welcoming committee. At church I welcomed new people coming through the door and new staff members. I didn’t wait to be asked. I just remembered what it felt like to be on the outside.

I have sat with grief, a bottomless pit feeling. Grief shows up and leaves in the truest form of a Midwestern goodbye. My son Jude taught me more about love than anything I have read or written since. Vinnie, his best friend, knows that better than anyone.

So who needs you to show up today? Someone in your life is waiting for you to walk through the door and be nice.

And if it costs you something? That’s when you are behaving in a manner consistent with Jesus.