Once a month I dig in to the kids’ rooms and pull everything out that has hidden deep into the recesses of their beds and load up acquired junk that has been sneakily stuffed behind random dressers and chairs. I always find half painted art projects, tape on the carpet, old Kleenexes, and crackers from late night snacks. The kids don’t mind me throwing away their trash, but when it comes to their toys….it’s a different story. Pull out that book with the ripped cover from chic-fil-a that we’ve had for 6 months and suddenly it’s their favorite. That Barbie with no hair…may as well be pure gold. As I was preparing to toss a chunk of dried clay that was once a history project, my 9 year old grabbed it and indignantly said, “Mom, this means more to me than you!”
As I continued pulling stuff out of closets, I happened to glance up at the overflowing baby doll container. To me, it was just a bunch of misfit faces that could head to Goodwill, but to my daughters….every face held more than paint. My girls know each doll’s story, their name, and what games they play with each one.
The dolls “mean more to them than they do to me.”
Where I see painted faces,
they see stories and sweet moments
yet unknown in the future.
That box of babies made me think about all the nameless faces I see in a day. The baristas, the cashiers, the people in line behind and before me, those people walking the store aisles, driving their cars, talking on their phones. All those faces in my neighborhood, at the park, or at church, I don’t even see them.
Namelessly written off as I focus on what’s important to me.
Maybe it isn’t a big deal, right? Everyone focuses on what they have to do. We can’t focus on everyone we see. That’s true to a point, but Christ inside me makes my outside different and He sees more.
Those nameless faces have a story, a name, and a future. Every. Single. One.
If Christ sees more.
If we are His hands.
If we are His feet.
If we are His voice.
If we can pray on behalf of others’.
Then we need to allow His perspective to change our own.
“These mean more to Me than they do to you,” the Father whispers.
Not in condemnation or laden with guilt, but to adjust our focus from seeing blank faces to seeing poignant stories in each and every pair of eyes.
Maybe we won’t engage everyone verbally – that’s not really practical, nor do I think that’s really what God is asking.
But maybe, a heart attitude that reflects the Father’s love will
open more doors for conversations with a few,
extend kindness to a few more,
and offer prayers on behalf of even more.
Perhaps Christ’s love will change more than we can see
as He changes us.
Do you have spiritual questions you’d like to talk about? Send me an email at Rebecca@redemptionslove.com I’d love to hear from you!