These people we meet and see are alive.
Their lives could not look any more foreign.
Strangers doing strange things.
Wearing, eating, and speaking in ways incomprehensible.
What my logic makes out is a list of differences.
Flip a switch.
My eyes strain and adjust.
Doing their job, they fight for ways to see.
I come upon similarities.
And then again, I find more differences…
But I meet them this time with fascination and admiration.
“Show me how to climb that tree.”
To exist freely.
What you see is what you get.
No more no less.
To sit outside your house
Feeling weather.
Relinquishing your life to be crafted
Instead of by your hands.
I see you’re a human being.
I miss the things familiar to me.
I think I can’t wait to embrace them again
But differently.
With more gratitude, life, and love.
What I’ve done is eased my mind into thinking I’m here for me, myself, and my personal growth.
Shake me gently Lord.
I’ve heard a certain arrangement of words more than a couple of times…
“There are people waiting on you.”
I don’t relish in this with some false savior complex.
I feel honored and loved by God thinking about the plans He’s assigned to me.
Reserved for me.
The people and relationships I’ll get to be a part of to demonstrate a part of God’s unconditional and unrelenting love.
These people are alive. And I swear I look them in the eyes sometimes and know we’re speaking. They can’t receive the words I’m forming, nor can I theirs, but instead we exchange character. And we may never have the distraction of language to get in the way of communication.
They actually don’t want your gifts. They want your presence. Sometimes people just want to be known…
