I don’t love other people as much as God does.

I want him to meet me on the quiet front porch, and speak his love to me as I delight in the fall colors dancing in the crisp fall breeze. And he does. But I am reminded that if it was all about me, God wouldn’t have bothered to make anybody else. 

Sure, my heart gets tugged when I encounter hurting people. I’ve even interceded a few times; extending help where it was needed but then letting the relationship fade once the crisis is over.

 Sometimes, though, I choose not to get involved because the magnitude of someone else’s junk is just too much to deal with. I’m not willing to invest the time, money, and elbow grease into that person’s “crazy”.

God does, though. He left everything comfortable and came to earth to show his love for all the messed up people. He lived with them, ate with them, told them all about God’s plan of redemption and restoration, and then went to the cross, fully willing to take the punishment they (I) deserved. 

He was tired, hungry, mistreated, abused, and murdered for the sake of you and me. For that drug addict. For your ratchet sister. For snobby rich people and ornery mountain folk. For the pharmacist and the drug dealer. For the lawyer and the convict alike. All sin. All need a savior. 

Jesus was willing to be that guy. He didn’t just think about it. He did it. And it changed history forever.

Am I willing to be that woman? The one who reaches her hands to pull people out of darkness, out of bondage, from a road marked “Destruction”? Am I willing to be uncomfortable, mocked, rejected, hurt, or taken advantage of for the sake of another human being coming into God’s kingdom? For someone to see God’s love and feel their dignity as His child maybe for the first time?

As I sit cozy under the covers sipping my French Vanilla Cappuccino, I will tell you right now that it doesn’t come naturally to me. I like my “me-time”! I’m way more of an introvert than a hilarious person should be. I actually enjoy reading for hours on end. Why is that a saying -“on end”? On end of what?

But I want to be God’s hands and feet, and those bad boys are always on the move, right there in the midst of people’s junk, proclaiming God’s victory over whatever sin is trying to keep them down. 

If I want to be where God is, I know where to find him.

Loving others.

Ang