In light of the recent events in this troubled world I have started wondering how radical the average American is going to become toward those in our nation who are “different” looking from the stereotypical “red-blooded American.”
My mom always, always taught my brother and me to see people through the eyes of God. To see that each person matters to God. Their story, their pain, their hurts, their joys, and dreams all matter to God.
What doesn’t matter to God is the person’s ancestry, their home country, their great-grandparents’ role in the community. The person, the person matters. The ever-living-never-dying-soul matters.
I walked past a woman yesterday who wore a head scarf. I met her eyes and smiled at her. She matters to God. I don’t know how many other people will see her as someone treasured by God, but instead will see only the head scarf that makes her “different.”
Later, I passed a homeless man. He was disheveled, wearing crumpled clothes, held up by a make-shift belt. I see this man often, many give him a wide berth. He holds conversations with imaginary people, often shouting, “Nothing to see here! Goodbye!” I strive to smile at him, even if he yells at me. He needs to know he matters. However I can show him in his brokenness.
I don’t know what our government will end up deciding regarding those who are waiting on the shores to enter our country. I do know for me, my heart hurts for people being judged for something that has no relation to them, except that they “look like trouble.” I admit, I would protect my family from danger at all costs, but I am not comfortable with lumping the “different” together.
Even those who hate are the lost children of God. They matter. Their souls matter. Do you see them that way?
The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).