A tall scantily-dressed person stood in the corner of the subway car. I cannot tell you if they were created male or female, so it is early Saturday morning when the all-night parties end. (Mostly though it’s medical workers in uniform , construction workers in blue jeans, and people like me who clerk at a farmer’s market.) How, I wondered does God love this person? I picture him/her as a old woman: bent over, stringy gray hair, crazy. Haven’t we seen many, many of her kind in their old age, shuffling down the sidewalk?
Then the Lord put another picture in my mind of the two of us leaving the subway car together. We both were bent over and had straggly gray hair.
Does the Lord look at us both the same, loving this person as much as He loves me?
Another day, we walked past the clock in the great room of Grand Central Station. People, people everywhere. “Lord,” I said, “Show me how much you love these people.”
He replied, “You couldn’t take it.” I understood that to see mankind running to and fro and not caring about the One who loves beyond my comprehension would be more than I could bear.
John 15:12: “This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.” What kind of love is this?
Berniece
An Ordinary Life 