Minus 5C. I’ve hung out a wash, standing on the frozen earth
and looking at a leaden sky and wondering why I was bothering. In a few hours I’ll
bring in stiff sheets and thaw them out. An exercise in futility I guess…
But my days are numbered, as are everyone’s, and every
moment counts. So how can that time be redeemed? Is there anything of value to
be gleaned from those moments wasted hanging out a wash on a frosty morning?
I noticed the birds, scavenging for sustenance. I connected
with their plight in a way I couldn’t by looking at them out the window of my
warm kitchen.
Native Americans have a saying to the effect that you should
never judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their moccasins. Jesus sat
with the sinner. He ate with the outcast. He walked with the diseased and the
rejected.
May the love of God in me impel me to take the time to walk
a mile with those whose experience is different from mine, that I might better
understand our shared humanity. May I be more eager to listen to others’
stories, to walk on the frozen ground of some of their lives, than I am to
share my own opinion. May God help us all to hunger to know him, to know
others, so that we can more truly know ourselves.
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