And so I should not have been surprised when Jacob told me candidly that he didn't play with a little boy in his class at school very much because his head was shaped like a rectangle. Thank goodness I was driving and had to keep my eyes on the road so he couldn't see my eyes bulge when I choked back hysterical laughter. The real truth came out a few minutes later, he is a slow and messy eater which shortens their time on the playground.
There are times when I wish I could strap filters on their mouths so that things like, "mom your bottom is really big" in the dressing room or "your belly is squishy" during snuggle time {that ended with a child dumped on the floor} didn't happen quite so frequently. Actually, I figured out how to stop the dressing room comments: I don't shop anymore. Or at least not with my entourage.
I wish that I could invent a filter for myself too. Even though I may not say it out loud, very often I find myself thinking thoughts that rival Jacob's rectangular head prejudice for their base meanness and judgmental attitude.
Not long ago I found myself watching another mother of a child on Jacob's baseball team. She came to games looking like she had dragged herself to the park directly from her bed. During the games, she barely took her eyes from her phone. Well, what my nasty little self found out later was that she probably had dragged herself to the park from the bedside, but it was the bedside of her 11 year old son who had been diagnosed with cancer in July and was in the hospital undergoing chemotherapy. What I mistook as a disinterested mother scrolling through facebook, was actually probably a worried mother checking for updates on her son, whom she rarely left. Her trip to the ballpark was a treat, a break from the heartbreak in the hospital.
I felt rebuked for my judgement and resolved to do better.
Then, not long ago, I caught myself doing the same thing. Sizing up a fellow mom and making mean assessments of her appearance. A few days later I saw her again only this time I saw the tubes coming from under her shirt and connected to a black bag she was carrying. I do not know what her situation is, but most people don't need to walk around connected to what appears to be medical equipment. So, I can only gather that this lady is treating or controlling an illness.
The outward appearance very rarely tells the whole story, yet we fill in the blanks with assumptions and conclusions based on nothing more than baggy jeans and an ill-fitting top. The outward appearance is just the frame holding the person, a soul inside that is so precious.
"Jacob, who made your friend?" Quietly he answered, "God." I continued, "If God took the time to number the hairs on his head, to shape arms and legs, to build a personality and create his very life, do you think He thinks he is special?" Another quiet reply, "Yes." "Well, then don't you think if God thinks he is special, we should too?" My heart recalled the faces of the ladies I had devalued with my silent judgement.
Every life is deliberately created limb by limb, hair by hair, eye color, shoe size, left or right handed by a loving God who not only takes the time to number each hair on our head, but to also plan our lives step by step. Who am I to let clothing stop me from seeing the creation?
Psalms 19:14
Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Your sight,
O Lord, my Strength and my Redeemer.
* NOTE: I am very happy to tell you that the little boy with cancer has a very promising prognosis. He should make a full recovery and go on to live a normal and healthy life!
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