At breakfast this morning I saw him. He sat in his wheelchair, looking like a wounded soldier. Blood seeped from a gaping wound, through a bandage wrapping his head. (I felt the bandage so unworthy to receive his blood.) His slump reminded me of an oddly broken branch. And--
I LOVED HIM.
I prayed for a way to express my love for this middle aged man.
Soon I saw her, the angel delivering his simple breakfast. His sad and loving wife tucked a napkin gently under his chin. (I felt the paper to be so unworthy of such a high calling.) Moments later she stood at the breakfast bar, next to me—weak and mighty; her face displaying agonizing doubt, rugged determination. She spoke of his brain cancerAnd--
I LOVED HER.
I could not continue to simply gaze in admiration at their beauty. I approached, so deeply moved by my love for them, no longer able to hold back. I sat down with them—listening, caring, loving, patting, blessing, praying, smiling, assuring, comforting, these dear ones in their pain. They were sick and I visited them at the table next to mine. And--
I LOVED THEM.
And it was not as if I had a choice. This flame of Love in me leapt with passion as I gazed on their beauty. The love was so deep that I could no longer see them. I saw Jesus. And--
I LOVED JESUS.
Daily they pass me by, looking angry, broken, haughty, busy, important, lost, happy, or peaceful. They co-exist in my spaces and places. Do I miss the opportunity to see their glory? The glory of the Only Begotten? That--
GOD IS WITH US!
Can’t you see HIM?