Stop Trying Start Being
Airport: excitement for some, dread for others. It’s the place of warm welcome homes and heartbreaking goodbyes. Sometimes, we don’t even recognize that that goodbye was the last goodbye we’d get.
Here I sit six feet away from the nearest soul, my understanding deeper than that of ten days prior to my adventure. Thousands, probably millions of people fly in and out of here daily, yet all we think is where we’re headed next. Anticipating being home after days or weeks away. Dreading leaving everything you know for the next several months. Sometimes it’s off on the most exciting adventure, others it’s back to a broken home, or breaking away from a broken place. Some are running away, some facing their greatest fears.
My heart now realizes a longstanding truth. People, millions of walks, reasons, ideas, painful memories, and joyful hearts sit next to us, bustling around us. Still we don’t see them. Someone committed suicide right as I typed this, but no one saw. Our actions affect those around us. We are called children of light, but do we live as such? There is so much hurt cycling around the globe, no matter its cause, we could spare five minutes to be present with someone who has no one.
Five minutes isn’t much, but it’s enough to tell someone they’re loved. It’s enough for someone to get healing from heartache they dared not share with those close to them. For much as I hate to admit, it’s easier to share my deepest insecurities with someone who I’ll never see again than my closest friend. No judgement that way, or if there is, I won’t here about it forever. If we spared five minutes out of our busy lives to help that lost toddler find her parents, or take a few extra minutes to walk with the lonely older man who goes out daily to relieve his mind from the memories of Vietnam. Even holding the door for the cab driver, saying thank you to the clerk at the store clerk, making eye contact when we ask how a person’s day was so we can truly connect.
It isn’t everyone’s calling to be a missionary in Africa, it is however, everyone’s calling to be light. If we lived as billions of lights, no matter how small our light may seem, there’d be no night people with depression must endure alone in the dark. No, I won’t be perfect at being light, but I’m the perfect light’s daughter and so long as my fire is burning with his fuel, I won’t burn out. This isn’t one more thing to do, it’s a lifestyle. Live open with God using you. Love fully and let go of trying so you can better grasp being.
Ephesians 5:8 (ESV)
for at one time you were darkness, but now you are a light in the Lord. Walk as children of light
Isaiah 1:17 (ESV)
learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.