Listening

The old toothless black man mumble as he spoke.  Some of his words made sense, others not at all.  I listened intently, keeping eye contact as talked.  When he smiled, I returned mine.  When I understood what he had said, I nodded or said a word or two of support.  While much of what he was trying to convey passed by me, I caught what I could.  What I returned to him was respect and concern.

I sat close, tuned in and quietly listened as he related how thing had gone since we last met.  He had experienced an epic battle with a wasp in his house in which he wound up falling and injuring his rib area as he struck the arm of the couch.  But - the wasp was vanquished.  Although most would not have considered it much of a battle, at his age, with his limitations and physical health, it was a story worth telling and, therefore, a story worth hearing.

As I was leaving, he thanked me for coming, warned me to be careful out there and to be sure and come back again.  Why?  What did I do for him that caused him to be grateful and invite me to return?  I listened with respect as he told his story.  I affirmed his worth and applauded his victory over the invading wasp.

An old black man and a not quite as old white man sat together on a couch and talked about life and faith, with a mutual respect based on nothing other than God made us both.  This is precisely what the apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians based on their common faith in God: "Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing" (1 Thess 5:11).

In a country so divided by race and ideology, why not try to come together as children of God, not over what we believe so much but rather in Whom we believe.  Jus' Say'n.