BEDA - April 14th

Today was a fairly relaxing day. Kevin is still In Tijuana, doing what he does best to those computers up there, preparing for our week of working at the TJ House. I spent the day finishing up the necessary cleaning in our new room. Now we have room to build our computer/soldering work bench, and also the server room. It's actually a fairly large project, which is going to include building four new walls, putting in two windows, a fan on the ceiling of the server room, and other little doo-dahs, little finishing touches that will make it homey. Like...say, the two full size couches. Or, maybe the projector. I mean...umm, tables, tool racks, storage shelves, and other work related things. That's all we have in there, I promise. Work stuff.

Anywho...tomorrow night, Blair, Kelcie, and I went for tacos and good ole Smokey's (yes, that says tomorrow night, that's not a typo. And if that makes sense to you, then you are very precise and observant). And Blair said something about this Mexican guy that he and Warehouse Dave ran into a couple times at the local taco stands., and how he'd be asking them for a taco or two. That part is not necessary to my story. It just made me remember something I had planned on writing up on here, cause I thought it was interesting.
So, this specific guy, is one of those people most would consider a "social outcast" or whatever that has come to mean these days. I first saw this guy in church (ironically enough) as walked by me down the aisle, stopped, turned around, and casually walked back. On his way back, I got a glimpse of him. He had the body of a small teenager. Skinny, short legs, small chest, just a small body over all. He even had that teenager walk down. But as I followed his body up from his feet (I scan people starting at their feet...cause, I don't know about you, but I remember people by their shoes. Not their faces, or clothes. Shoes.) I noticed that he had the face of a rather elderly man. 60s? 70s? I'm not sure. But it didn't match his body. At all. Which is funny, after saying I don't remember people by their faces really but by their shoes. This guy was definitely an exception to that rule (although, I do in fact, remember was wearing brown baggy pants, skater shoes, and a beanie). I have this guys face engraved in my mind for quite awhile. Just that one in a lifetime you don't ever forget.
Anywhoozles...then my natural brain cycles started, the ones that just go without me saying so. I thought, "Awww, poor guy. His life must be so hard just to simply BE like that. I can't even imagine. Does he have friends? Where is his family? Exactly how old is he? Is his age the age of how his body looks? Or how his face looks? How has he made it this far in life (however far that might be), when so much in this life is based off looks and initial appearance. What are the chances that people are just going to walk up to him and simply ask how he is? What are the odds people will go out of their way to get to know him, or even acknowledge he exists? Being a "social outcast," aren't most people going to initially see him and be afraid of approaching him?" And then I noticed I was doing just that...I was totally judging him on his initial appearance, of how he looked to me. I was just as guilty as anyone else who'd ever come in contact with him. I was doing what I, myself, was questioning.

But it kept on going...

I continued thinking, "Wow, I'm so glad I'm not him. I don't know if I could live like that. Thank you God, for making me who I am. I am so thankful for the life I have." It's like one of those things where North Americans go on a missions trip to, say, Mexico, and feel so blessed, and go home and are so thankful for everything they have, because they personally witnessed the conditions others are living in at that very moment. It's kinda the same thing with this man I saw in church. I was so thankful that God showed this man to me, cause it really made me realize the blessings that I have, if only physical blessings. Even though to most of the world, we call it normal. But to this guy, all us "normal" people are so blessed. We don't have to worry about something as basic as looking normal on an everyday basis (unless you look like Ron Weasley...then life is really tough). We get up and walk out the door every morning, without so much as a thought of, "I wonder if people are going to point and stare today?" That's just not in us. Sometimes, it's actually just the opposite. "I wonder people are going to point and stare at this brand new jacket I got, or new shiny shoes, or, heck, and fancy dancy soccer ball? Look at how special it looks on me. I hope people notice." Whereas this guy's probably hoping people skip right over him, and don't take a second glance. Which, really is a low point. If you're going through your day HOPING and PRAYING that not a single person notices you, something is either wrong you, or something is wrong with the way society treats/acts towards you. I claim that it's the latter. This guy, for one is still a guy, and God still created him just as he is. Heck, maybe the point of his life is to help the rest of us with "normal" lives realize what we have, and to not take advantage of it. It's not my place to say, that's up to God. Maybe he's happy with the way he is, which would be the coolest thing in the world. I don't know what's going through his mind, nor will I ever. But I couldn't help thinking about him, and just thanking God for using him to help me realize how blessed I am.
It's like our Day Home here at the mission. Our day home has like 18 or so disabled kids in it. They come here every week day; picked up at home in the morning, they're here throughout the day, then they're brought home at 3:30. It's like they're just another example of this: God using others to show us how blessed we are.

And then I got to thinking.

What if...?? What if...we were being used by God to show others how blessed they were? What if us "normal" people were here for the purpose of showing others just how fortunate they are? What if I was one of God's examples that other people saw and went, "Wow, I'm glad I'm like me and not him. I have a blessed life." How would that make me feel? I'm pretty darn sure that would make me feel vastly inferior. but who am I to say that I'm not? I see other people and realize the blessings I have, why can't others look at me and see how blessed they are? We all here for the purpose of spreading God's glory, what if I'm part of that to show the blessings God's given to others?

Would I act differently if I knew someone was watching me because they were coming to the realization of their blessings? I'm sure I would. If I was the guy walking down the aisle at church, and I stopped, turned around, and stared myself in the eye (which would be creepy in itself), what would I see? Would I see myself sitting in that chair thinking I have life figured out, and then watch as I glanced down at the shoes and slowly progressed up my body? When I saw my face, what would my reaction be? I bet, if anything, I'd notice a change in facial expression as I saw my face on that body.

All I'm wondering is, every single one of us goes through our everyday lives, witnessing and seeing people who, to us, seem like God revealed them to us for the purpose showing himself to us. By using them, we see God, and all that he's done for us. But do we ever think that we can actually be one of those people? Being God's servant, unknowingly? Of course, we're always supposed to be being his servant, but maybe we're not consciously thinking of it. I'm not.

But maybe I will now that I know there is a good possibility someone is watching me, looking at my shoes, and glancing up to see not me, but God, and the blessings he's bestowed upon them in their "abnormal" lives.