These past few weeks have been exhausting as a gigantic tidal wave of anger, despair, and helplessness has blasted upon humanity, invading our lives and our homes, crushing societies and towns and social media morale as the wave pounds and beckons and taunts us through the pale white glare, the Apple held firmly in our grasp, our tongues panting for all of the sweet drops of nectar, but as the story of old forewarns, the Apple is not always what it seems.
The wave continues its relentless, unforgiving pursuit, but we refuse to move or turn away lest we miss something! NO! We must know everything about anything – like a horrific train wreck – we have to see it all. So many heartfelt and angry opinions, so many informed and uninformed people and users of words or users of some other medium lending their voices to the madness, offering their convictions as they compose eloquent words for the masses – words that oftentimes feel like buckets of water being poured upon an already drenched agenda.
Such a gray, wet agenda at times.
The Syrian mother, alone, babe at her breast, son holding tightly to her weathered hand, her husband long dead from the war-torn world they were born into. The seasoned Vet scolding the young blogger on social media, scolding him for his innocence and lack of understanding in our vulnerable American state. All the many lives that matter – ALL of them! Including those nameless lives resting against beating hearts and those who are women and the homosexuals and the Hispanics and the Indians to name a few.
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” Matt 25:40
Least of these. Least of these is quite overwhelming with refugees and blacks, and women, and unborn babies, and lonely widows and grubby foster kids and men struggling to find work and women struggling to find Johns, and the beautiful disabled brothers and sisters, the Lukes of the world, who are amongst the most vulnerable of all creation, the weak, the dependent, the infirmed, and the dying. There’s equality in the least of these.
So many who need our love, but we’re just so distracted by that damn tidal wave that keeps pounding and pounding against our souls.
What will it take to release our eyes from the loftiness of that wave and instead turn our gaze downward to notice that which was not seen before?! That which was hidden beneath the wave – the smooth, silky pebbles birthed to shore through the violent, angry pushes. Pebbles signifying a hopeful change if someone would just stop looking at that wave and instead bend low, grasping one single pebble, and with outstretched hand give it away to the least of these. Can we? Will we? Do we dare to bend our backs as we release our pride and tighten our grip around a humble pebble? Around love? And as the pebbles accumulate, one by one they will create a barrier – a barrier that might just halt the wave, or stop it, damming it actually, and then, and only then will we have an opportunity to dry our land, shake off our despair, and bask in the warmth of peace and love once again.
Bend low. Grasp a pebble. Pick it up. Give it away for the least of these. Love wins.
Just keep livin!