The trouble with you is that you make your decisions on the basis of appearance. You must recognize that we belong to Christ just as much as those who proudly declare that they belong to the Christ.
I had the incredible pleasure to attend a Christian writing conference here in town at the beginning of November. It was wonderful to meet some very talented writers, who also happened to love Jesus. I learned so, so much from them.
When I arrived, I was very much out of my comfort zone -- I attended by myself and I had never done anything "official" for my writing before. I had no idea how these things worked. So, I sat back quietly and tried to take it all in as an observer so I wouldn't somehow unknowingly make a fool of myself.
A woman walked in and sat in front of me. She had come down the aisle with a limp and looked a little disheveled, her outfit a bit eccentric. Oh, writers, I thought to myself. She proceeded to make conversation with the young people down the row from her, and at first, I thought they all knew each other but soon found out that they didn't...but she was talking to them a mile a minute and she didn't even know them. How awkward. She was so chatty. Lady, just sit quietly so you don't embarrass yourself.
I continued to sit there in my puddle of arrogance and judgment.
Then the lady down the row from me starts chatting it up, too. Normally, I am all about chatting with strangers, but since I felt so out of my comfort zone, I was annoyed that she wouldn't just let me sit in peace. Again, the arrogance.
This blonde lady, with stringy hair and lip stick that was way too dark in my opinion, starts telling me all about her life and her job as a writer. She kept referring to me as "Beth" and was telling me way more detail than was socially acceptable for strangers, so now I sat there swimming in my arrogance and judgement. My name is Molly. How do you get Beth from Molly?
They asked us to find someone near us to get to know. There was a really cute, stylish, pretty, young woman in the row behind me, so I tried to make eye contact with her. She paired up with the old guy next to her. I was left with Blondie.
We introduced ourselves officially now, and then she asked me something that caused me to reveal that my mom had died in the past few years.
I could see her pause. She asked me a few more questions about it and about Mom. And then she started tearing up. She was in her second year of grief since she'd lost her mom, her best friend. If you ask me anything, I'll tell you that the second year of grief was a lot harder than the first, so my heart sank when I heard the words "two years ago."
Slowly, God started melting my cold heart toward this stranger. My Stephen Ministry brain kicked in so that I could give comfort, and I realized that God had sat us (out of the 500 people in the room) next to each other on purpose. I should have known -- everything He does is on purpose.
So, I was getting a little more comfortable with my surroundings. But I still wasn't sure what sessions to attend -- the options were endless, and I didn't even know where to start.
It was then that the lady with the limp and the need to talk constantly turned around and said, "Is this your first conference?" And when I answered that it was, she asked me what I write and helped guide me to the sessions that would be best for me. She also told me that the woman who would be editing some of my work was one of the most-coveted editors. "You are blessed," she said with a big smile as she turned back around. I was so grateful that she'd given me some confidence that I was where I needed to be.
Tears came to my eyes.
I'm so sorry, Lord. I can't believe how self-centered, judgmental, and higher-than-thou I have been. I feel so ashamed. I feel so low. I feel unworthy and anything but beautiful in your sight right now.
The weekend continued on, and my heart was open to all people and anything they wanted to say or any way I could care for them. It was an incredible weekend. A life-changing weekend.
Then, on the last day, during the last session, we worshiped together -- Presbyterians, Catholics, Methodists, Assembly-folks, Weslyans, and me. With our many different styles of worship (including the woman behind me who was ad-libbing her own part during every song), we worshiped the God who created us all. The appearances and differences did not matter. Not at all. THAT was The Church right there. Some lifted hands, some did not. Some danced to the beat, others did not. And it was all perfectly lovely.
And wouldn't you know, there I was placed between my two new friends, Blondie and Chatty, with our hands in the air, standing together as sisters in Christ. And I was so thankful in that moment that God is never done with me...
Why had I let appearances get in the way? Appearances meant nothing. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. And, wow, their hearts were absolutely beautiful.
So, today, let us look at the hearts of the people we come across. If we only look at the outside, we are going to miss some the greatest beauty God has ever created.
Molly Monroe
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