Loved

To be beautiful is to be loved. I like to think of it more like to be loved is to be beautiful.


I get caught up in the pettiness of the workplace just as easily as everyone else. I judge based on looks, clothing, speech patterns, method of payment (it happens when you spend a lot of your waking hours working in the grocery store). I see everything that is superficial. Sometimes I do it to make myself feel better, especially when I'm having a bad day. I am paid to serve customers with a smile, but I often feel like it's a burden and act like it too.

Then there are days when I feel and act like the child of God I claim to be. I feel love for everyone. I once read that if you love Jesus, you love everyone that same way. So if I love and follow Jesus, I need to look on everyone with love. Oh, is it hard sometimes.

Like the angry man who is also deaf. He practically screams and doesn't ask, but tells you what to do and how to do it with regards to his groceries. Or the woman with a sour expression who answers when you ask how she is today, “Terrible!” What are you expected to say to that?

Well, I'm happy to say that the woman and I have made friends. Every time she comes in the store, I make a special effort to go over and say hello. I once asked her why she always said she was terrible. Her answer was a long list of medical problems that almost prevent her from getting out of bed, and do prevent her some days. She wears a neck collar (a softer one than the EMT's use) most of the time and I used to think it was so she could garner sympathy. (Talk about seeing your faults in others! But that is another post all together.) It's part of her illness though that creates pain and weakness in her neck. She loves to grow tomatoes and has several of her own strains. So we talk tomatoes and I have a friend where before I saw a burden.

I am a work in progress, and I'm happy to say that God's love wins most of the time. It should be one hundred percent. I should be able to show kindness and understanding, overlooking the petty, all of time. Yet I am human, I am not perfect. There is only one person I know of who is perfect and His name is Jesus. I am not perfect. I fail. But I have the love of God on my side, and I only need to look to Him.

To be loved is to be beautiful.

The photo belongs to Brendan Bell on Flickr.

Until next time,