“To the uneducated an A is just three sticks.” — Eeyore (A. A. Milne)
I receive all sorts of comments when I’m riding my bike. Lots of “thumbs up” (at least I assume they’re thumbs) and a ton of encouragement, but occasionally someone tosses out a comment about how “easy” my ride appears.
“Wow, I wish I could lie down while I work out. Looks like you’re riding a hammock. Do you ever fall asleep?”
And my sarcastic self is tempted to respond with, “Yeah, hardly takes any effort at all. Ha Ha.”
I know they don’t get it, don’t understand the engineering behind the design, that the reclined posture actually takes advantage of my body’s abilities and makes the process more efficient. These folks aren’t trying to be mean. It’s complex, but they react simplistically.
Instead of an A, they see three sticks.
Good old gloomy Eeyore was exactly right. Without insight, it’s possible to stare at something, perhaps something quite special, without knowing what we’re seeing.
# # #
I sat outside a food bank on a Monday morning. I watched perfectly capable adults carrying food. I was tempted to react.
“Why do they come here, week after week, instead of finding a way out of this rut? Why don’t they find a job?”
That’s what you and I would do, right?
Recent experience with a friend has helped me understand just a bit of what’s beneath the surface of chronic homelessness. I’ve watched what happens when a person becomes trapped in that cycle, and I’ve concluded only that I don’t know what I would do in those horrible circumstances.
The story’s so much more complex than I realized. I certainly don’t have a solution, but I know it isn’t as simplistic as “Get a job.”
# # #
I heard a girl describe the horrors of being trapped in sexual slavery on the streets of a U.S. city. She related the most common question she received after her rescue: “Why didn’t you run away?”
That’s what you and I would do, right?
Except after she explained the fear, the threats, the intimidation, the torture, I’m a lot less sure about “what I would do” under those circumstances.
I know I’ll never again wonder, “Why didn’t you leave?”
# # #
A couple of thousand years ago a baby was born. Probably lots of babies were born that same night. Other than a few shepherds and some visiting wise men, nobody paid much attention to Jesus’ birth.
Heaven saw the turning point, the moment in which everything changed. Almost everyone else perceived three sticks.
About thirty years later some soldiers nailed Him to a cross. To them it was just another day on the job. Nothing special. Three sticks.
As the heavens shook, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing.”
Because even those who thought they understood, really didn’t.
# # #
I’m pretty good at knowing, and proclaiming, what’s “obvious.” I wonder how often I’m absolutely certain I see one thing while Jesus sees something altogether different.
I need to be open to the possibility that what I perceive as a random collection of sticks might be a beautiful piece of art when seen through Jesus’ eyes.