Seattle Bound

As I write this, I am sitting on my plane bound for Seattle. I'm watching soft clouds roll by and enjoying the calm blue river that weaves its way through the snow topped mountains. But mostly, I am listening. I'm trying my best to listen to the conversation between the two people in front of me over the hum of the plane's engine. When I got on the plane, I did my best to hurl my fat carry on in the overhead bin, always a struggle for me. The guy sitting in front of me, wearing a Cal hat, encouraged me saying, “You got it, girl!” Let's call him Kyle. The lady sitting beside him (we'll call her Maggie) was a foreign exchange student from Denmark so the two quickly struck up a conversation. I listened as Kyle asked her questions and listened intently to her answers, nodding her head. It was obvious he genuinely cared about what she was saying. Before we had even taken off, I thought, “I bet he's a Christian.” It wasn't necessarily what he was saying at that point that made me wonder if he was a Christian...he was mostly just asking general questions, after all. It was his love, genuine and tangible, the way that he cared. Kyle continued to listen as Maggie talked about her experience as a foreign exchange student in a small village of 65 people in Alaska and life back home in Denmark. Then, not to my surprise, he talked about how he wanted to go into ministry. As they kept talking, I leaned forward, trying my best to listen to what was being said without being too creepy. Kyle talked about Christianity, about Jesus, about a peace he couldn't explain. He talked about how we don't have to find our happiness in materialism, about serving others. “Why are you serving yourself?” he asked. He talked about Jesus, but never once did he preach at Maggie. Instead of saying, “You're a sinner and going to hell,” he talked about the difference that God had made in his life. And I don't doubt it.

     I saw God's love shining through this complete stranger. But you know what amazes me? Even before Kyle ever said anything about wanting to go into ministry or Christianity, I guessed he was a Christian. You know how I knew? It was because of his love. Once at church we sang the song, “And They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love.” While singing, I felt physically sick. I thought about how Christians are know as hypocrites, judgmental, legalistic people who are obsessed with following rules. That's why Kyle immediately stood out to me. Love that looks like that will always stand out.

     You know how I know that? Because we live in a world where people, honestly, don't really care. We sit next to strangers on planes and, sure, we might make small talk, but do we actually care about them? Do we care about the person working at McDonalds? Do we actually care about the homeless man with a shopping cart on the corner of the street? Do we even care about the girls being trafficked everyday? You say, “Sure, I care!” But do you care enough to do something about it? What about the single mom who has kids with empty stomachs and are about to be evicted from her house? Oh...you prayed for them in church, did you now? Well, why don't you be the answer to your own prayer and do something about it? Or what about the kid who sits by them-self? Who wants to commit suicide? Whose lonely? Are you too wrapped up in your own bubble, in your own world, to notice their pain?

     Know I'm not saying this to preach at you. I'm saying this because, time and time again, that has been me. I've been the one who judges the homeless man without remembering he has a story, a past. I've been the one who says human trafficking is horrible, but remains in my comfort zone. I've been the one who excludes people, left them sitting by themselves in their lonely corner. You know what's terrible, though? Once upon a time, that was me who felt like I was on the outside looking in. That was me who could never fit in with anyone, anywhere. But then it changed when I found people who accepted and loved me. Do you see what a hypocrite I am? I see other people sitting alone and I know exactly how they feel. I can feel their pain. I know exactly what thoughts are running through their head because once? That was me. And yet...often...I think to myself, “Look, I'm sorry you don't fit in, but I finally fit in now! What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. You'll survive, I promise.” If we were being painfully honest, I think most of us would admit we don't actually care. You know what I think? You don't really care if you don't do something about it. Love is an action, a verb. If we really love and care for others like we claim we do, then we will do something about it and act upon it.

     So this is my challenge to myself as well as you: Love everyone, everywhere. Love everyone who crosses your path. Go out and be a love revolutionary. Love, not politics, not war, not power, is the only thing that can change the world. Love as if your love is unlimited and you'll find out that it is.