Written Without Words
Today, looking out a window, I watched a man flailing his arms. His intrigue seemed convincing and something of importance. Had I not been aware of his presence and seen him many times in the serving line, I would have studied him longer. The invisible pattern of words his dirty hands drew seemed like a mystery. What if I was missing something? I and countless others paid the man little attention. What if those imaginary lines he drew mid-air were as obvious as the words Jesus wrote to the accusing crowd of the adulteress women?
What were the words saying? I questioned it with an overwhelming curiosity.
Perhaps the hidden message that the stranger wrote said, "Look at me and notice my invisible words. Please hear the desperate plea of my gestures. I am human; I am real. I was made just like you and we are equal. I am lost; I need God. I am ignored. Although I am all of this, I am also ... loved by God."
After getting lost in the possibilities and suffocated with sorrow, I began to pray. At first, I prayed for the man until it dawned on me -- a deeper meaning took root. I changed my words mid-sentence and, instead, began praying for all of us who overlooked this man. I prayed for the hearts of those inside the crowd.
I had a smile of gratitude written on my face along with a new understanding. I thanked God on that day while looking out the window.
- Blessing Bestowed
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