- Are certain words considered beautiful because of the ideas and images they signify or because of an aesthetic quality that they inherently possess?
- Is it more meaningful to “be a voice for the voiceless” or to listen and allow the “voiceless” to speak for themselves?
- The media is largely responsible for perpetuating many problematic images and stereotypes. To what extent can a change to this norm be consumer driven, and how much of it must come from within the media itself?
- How can I prevent one element of my identity from becoming my identity without minimizing its importance?
- I’ve always been a fan of the idea of compassion. Recently, I learned that compassion literally means “to suffer with.” When is it appropriate to attempt to heal someone’s pain, and when is it more appropriate to enter that pain with them?
- How can we best go about critiquing ideologies without becoming critical of the individuals who hold them?
- Is it possible to be authentic with the masses and be vulnerable with only a few?
- Does preoccupation with certainty lead to loss of faith?
- Many emotional words prevalent in other languages have no English equivalent, and perhaps vice versa. Does this negate the universality of the emotions themselves?
- What does it really mean to “keep in touch?”
- In what ways is beauty a multisensory experience?
- Is it possible to return to a place or a person you love without being physically present?
- We tend to feel our most powerful emotions in the heart- or in the core of who we are. Why then, do we often suppress these emotions as trivial?
- How can I bridge the gap between my youthful uncertainty and developing wisdom in order to cultivate a unique and powerful voice for myself?
- Unrequited love???
- How do we maintain the subjectivity of art while fully embracing and appreciating the artist’s original intent?
- Why are we so quick to judge the value of our actions and efforts on their tangible results, especially when they are out of our control?
- How did destructive things like discrimination, prejudice, and intolerance become so embedded in the faith I practice- one that is supposed to be based on ideals of love, grace, and justice for all people?
- As I move on to the next chapter of my life, how do I hold things from home close to my heart while also making room for new people and experiences?
- Is it okay to ask a question without any real intention of finding an answer?
My Speck.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Twenty Questions with Kirby Part 2
Monday, April 6, 2015
The Age of my Heart
The
Age of my Heart
“Todo el mundo es la edad de su corazón: everyone is the
age of their heart.” This Guatemalan proverb encompasses the revelations that
dominated my thoughts on our final full day in a country abundant in both
transformative strength and stagnant injustice. Although the trip was
undoubtedly focused on service to others, I found that the lessons I learned
throughout my experience taught me more about the role I personally play in the
world around me more than I could have ever dared to dream. Unlike less
consummate forms of introspection that can wrongly engender selfishness, the
reflection I experienced on this day inspired a swelling sense of community.
This was especially prevalent as we overcame many challenges of both physical
and emotional nature as a team. We trekked to the precipice of an active
volcano as the sun rose over the lush green landscape. We meandered through the
bustling city of Antigua to absorb the rich history and culture of the
country’s former capital. (Okay, so we mostly ate great food and tried our hand
at bartering with vendors in the marketplace. I was awful.) We spent the
evening mulling over our week of adventure and expressing how much we mean to
one another. Ultimately, the time we spent together- listening, learning, and
loving- brought me to an important realization about what it means to be the
age of my heart. One particularly profound definition of the word age describes
it as “one of the periods or stages of human life.” By this philosophy, age is
not a number, but a complex state of existence. This state is comprised of a
myriad of passionate ambitions and intricate stories- many of which are not
even my own. They belong to the precious people of La Limonada, to the team
with whom I have traveled, and to the beacons of light and love who have
dedicated their lives to bridging the divide between privilege and poverty. And
yet . . . they are inextricably a part of me and my ever-growing, ever-changing,
ever-beating heart.
It beats with the joyful laughter of dear baby Charlie,
who is spending the first few months of her fragile life in a country that most
Americans would deem unsafe for even a week of travel. Unaware of this prejudice,
she smiles brightly at the strangers who inhabit her home and giggles loudly
when they make silly faces- which is often. It aches for the fear-filled brown
eyes of children in the daycare of La Limonada when yet another group of
strangers darkens its doors. Only moments later, the radical grace and
hospitality that permeates the community takes hold from a place deep within
their youthful spirits, and they reach up for warm hugs and gentle kisses on
the cheek. My heart overflows as it holds dear the dreams of La Limonada’s
older children; these dreams radiate with the hope and ambition that is
necessary for sustainable social change. It bleeds for the teenage girl on the
street corner who has temporarily put her own future on hold so she can nurture
a child even though she is still one herself. It swells with the memories I
have made with my own peers, each of whom are too uniquely wonderful to
describe. These beautiful individuals, although less experienced in years,
teach me so much about trust, innocence, and humility. In this period of my
human life, I am young.
My heart gains wisdom and discernment from those whose
years have brought with them truths worth internalizing. It is warmed by the
strength and diligence of my chaperones/teachers, who have spent countless
hours working through the logistics of bringing a diverse group of teenagers to
a foreign country. It absorbs the warm light of Daniela and Lizza, the two
Lemonade Team members with whom we have worked closely. The compassion they
exude for the children of La Limonada is just as fierce as it is gentle- as if
these children were their very own. They have high ambitions for this
marginalized community and even higher ambitions for a world where this kind of
marginalization is heartbreakingly commonplace. My heart is rejuvenated by the
tireless efforts of Tita, who has worked in La Limonada for longer than I have
been alive, who exemplifies the remarkable truth that perfect love casts out
all fear. It lifts up the elderly residents of La Limonada- fathers, mothers,
sons and daughters- who believe fervently in a better future for the next
generation of Guatemala. Although I may not completely understand the
perspective my elders have on the world, they give me hope for the kind of
vision I hope to acquire. In this period of my human life, I am growing older.
Each face, each story, each heart- adds a new dynamic to
the heart I am still trying to comprehend- my own. It is young, and it is old.
It is so weak, and yet it is so strong. Every vein, every vessel that belongs
to me belongs a thousand times over to a world longing simply to love and be
loved. So, as I cope with my departure from the land that has captured and
transformed the core of my being, I choose to look to the ends of the earth
that need to feel the rhythm of my beating heart the most. Because I know now
that at this period in my human life, I need to feel theirs just as
desperately. Then, and only then, will I be able to understand my identity as a
citizen of this beautifully broken world that we all call home.
Muchas
gracias, Guatemala. Nos vemos.
Friday, July 25, 2014
20 Questions with Kirby
A few short days ago, I returned from a wonderful place called North Carolina Governor’s School West. The experiences I had there taught me so much about my academic area of interest (English), being independent, building relationships, and making lifelong memories. The mantra at Governor’s School is “question everything.” As someone who likes certainty, this idea has made me pretty uncomfortable for most of my life. Some questions lead us to answers that we do not want to find. Some don’t have answers. Nonetheless, the past five and one-half weeks have taught me that I’m not here to have all the answers. I’m here to ask questions and follow them wherever they may lead. So I’ve compiled a list of 20 questions that tend to occupy my thoughts and that I’d like to explore in the upcoming year. 20 questions is a pretty fun game, so feel free to play along!
1. Having withstood the test of time, the golden rule states that we should treat others the way we would like to be treated. If we do not believe that we personally deserve to be treated with empathy and respect, what implications does this have on the way we treat others?
2. Is it possible to truly know a person, or are we merely creating fictional characters in a narrative we write based on the traits we perceive?
3. The saying goes that a picture is worth a thousand words. Who's to say that a word can't be worth a thousand pictures?
4. Can we truly experience happiness in its greatest magnitude without the existence of pain and suffering?
5. In a society that places such great value on individualism, why do so many individuals feel as if they are of little to no value?
6. In the grand scheme of the infinite universe, our planet is merely a speck. Why then, do we use physical distance as a justification for crumbling relationships?
7. Most people agree that lying is morally wrong, and many assert that anything that is not entirely true is a lie. Is it morally wrong to say "I'm fine" when in reality you're the complete opposite?
8. I'm a Christian. Many people in my faith tend to condemn nonbelievers for "rejecting God's love." How can someone be expected to accept a love that is not evident in the lives of those who profess it?
9. By one definition, language is described as "an finite number of symbols arranged into an infinite number of possible combinations." Does this qualify things such as music and mathematics as languages?
10. Would we have more boldness in saying "hello" to strangers if we didn't live with the constant threat of "goodbye?"
11. 75% of American girls believe that their personal worth depends on how they look. For a long time, I was one of them. What are we doing (or not doing) as a society to stop the perpetuation of this destructive idea?
12. How am I supposed to respond when I feel inextricably connected to someone who doesn't even know my name?
13. Is "loving from a distance" an example of bravery or cowardice?
14. Why am I really good at some of the things I'm indifferent towards, but really mediocre at some of the things I'm most passionate about?
15. What are the consequences of labeling romantic love as the most consummate form of human attachment?
16. When is silence louder than noise?
17. When will I stop making the same wish at 11:11 every night: when it finally comes true, or when I accept the fact that it probably never will?
18. Which of these is the most defining component of my identity: the physical, the mental, or the spiritual?
19. Why does it often seem that fiction contains more truth than fact alone?
20. What happens when I run out of questions?
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Do You Consider Yourself a Masterpiece?
Slightly interesting fact about me: I really like to write poetry. I don't get to do it as often as I'd like, and I'm no Robert Frost, but there's just something about making words come together that gets me really excited. I especially like it when I feel like I've written something that will brighten someone's day and remind them of how ridiculously loved they are. One poem that reminds me of this is Psalm 139, which famously states: "For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well" (Psalm 139:13-14). So, I figured I'd try to incorporate this truth into a poem of my own. It's intended to be more of a spoken word thing, but since no one wants to see a video of me yelling at them, the script itself is just going to have to work. I really hope it makes you smile!
You are so much more than the person the world will make you out to be, and you better not forget it.
Do you consider yourself a masterpiece?
Because you know,
We live in a world where it’s easy to feel like a stick
figure scribbled on scrap paper
With stubby, broken crayons,
That not even a child will pick up because the colors just
aren’t
“Pretty enough.”
Because somehow,
We’ve all fallen captive to the presupposition
That the “best art” has to be made out of the “best stuff,”
And that only an intricate physique painted delicately on
a sterile white canvas
With paint so pungent, and so bright that its pigments have
to be diluted with water
Is worthy of being plastered onto the walls that we build
To detain, to disdain, to disguise, and to deprive ourselves
Of the universe that lies beyond the interior
Because we’ve decided that no one out there in the vastness
Would stand up at an auction and scream over the hushed
murmur of the other bidders
Just to hold us in their soft hands and whisper
“Mine.”
But then, I look at you,
And I realize,
We’re wrong.
Because you, my dear
Are the best art,
The kind of masterpiece that deserves to be on exhibition
under the fluorescent lights of an uptown gallery,
To be admired by the glimmering gazes of passersby,
Who stand in awe of the way the colors run together in all
the right places brushstroke by brilliant brushstroke,
And to finally be bought at a price of nothing less than a
thousand gold coins
Of love and gentleness,
To be emblazoned above the crackling embers of a warm
fireplace,
In a home with transparent walls
In a universe of your very own.
But yet somewhere in the blurred lines between
Beauty and brokenness,
I’ve lost sight of what the “best stuff”
Really is, and I’m honestly not sure that I know anymore,
But I do know that whatever you’re made of is pretty
spectacular,
Like the shimmering dust of the earth that glistens on your
bare feet,
And the splendid sunshine that brings out the streaks in
your hair,
And the way your soft voice breaks the earsplitting silence,
And the music that exudes from your sympathetic soul.
And maybe you’re made of some things that you like to
conceal,
To confine to the sketches crumpled up under your bed
because you didn’t want to call them art,
Like the scar you got when you stepped on a rock while
trying to dance in a thunderstorm,
And the icy rain that falls from your eyes and sometimes
blurs your vision when you drive,
And the way you still wake up with cold sweat in the middle
of the night because you could never quite kill the monsters in the
closet,
And the shards of glass, sitting in your soul, that the
music couldn’t replace when the world handed you heartbreak.
But I don’t care if it isn’t always the “best stuff,” or the
“brightest paint,”
Fight through the cobwebs festering under your bed, take out
those sketches,
And tattoo those flaws on your sun-kissed skin,
Because you, my darling,
Are fearfully, and wonderfully made,
Knitted together with the silvery threads of
Beauty and brokenness,
Woven into the greatest mess of a masterpiece,
The kind that isn’t yet complete.
And so if you’re ever asked to draw a self-portrait
And you scribble a stick figure on scrap paper
With stubby, broken crayons
That come in colors you just don’t think are
"Pretty enough,”
Then I will proudly plaster it over the cracks in my crumbling walls,
But then I will sit down at my cluttered desk and write you
a poem to say
“You are so much more.”
You are so much more than the person the world will make you out to be, and you better not forget it.
Friday, June 6, 2014
Kairos
Kairos is an ancient Greek word used to describe a defining moment in time. We've all had our fair share of these moments and will continue to experience them in the future. For some of us, our most profound memories are those of great triumph, while for others, times of despair are far more prominent. Regardless, I like to think of these defining moments not as mere specks of time, but as life long journeys. In the grand scheme of things, every laugh that radiates from your heart and every tear that falls from your eye impacts who you are forever. Think about the biggest experiences in your life up to this point. How have they continued to mold and shape you? Where would you be, or who would you be, without these moments? Chances are, these experiences have been the beginning of continuous odysseys, whether you realized it or not.
But sometimes, I wonder how often we wait for time to define us, when really, time is ours to define. Like each unique grain of sand, each moment we are granted offers unique beauty if we are willing to open our eyes and look for it. Because if we can't find delicacy in the small things, how can we ever expect bigger things to come our way? Besides- "bigger" and "better" are things we construct in our minds- and they're never guaranteed. As we're reminded in James 4:13-14: "Come now you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit.' Whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away." So never forget to take advantage of the opportunities you have before they slip away. Devote each moment to what is important to you and to what has a positive impact on the world around you. Do this so that each day, you are continuing to make strides in the right direction, and each second is a defining one that begins a new voyage into things both new and exciting. Incorporate things that require you to step far out of your comfort zone and help you discover your amazing capabilities and passions. But never, ever forsake the small things. Take a moment in the morning to marvel at the way each drop of dew captures the brilliance of the blue sky. Stand in awe of the way the sun penetrates the clouds and bathes the leaves in golden light. Tell bad jokes, just to hear the sound of your own laughter. Smile at strangers, even when they don't smile back. No matter how gloomy things may seem on any given day, find something to enjoy. Even the biblical King Solomon, who saw so much futility and hopelessness in life, came to an important conclusion at the end of his otherwise bleak book Ecclesiastes: "After looking at the way things are here on this earth, here's what I've decided is the best way to live: Take care of yourself, have a good time, and make the most of whatever job you have as long as God gives you life. And that's about it. That's the human lot. Yes, we should make the most of what God gives, both the bounty and the capacity to enjoy it, accepting what's given and delighting in the work. It's God's gift! God deals out joy in the present, in the now. There's no use brooding over how long we might live" (Ecclesiastes 5:18-20).
Most importantly, never forsake a moment with those who mean the most to you. You don't have to be on a grand adventure to make memories; you can make them while sitting at a red light! (But please be careful to obey all traffic rules and regulations.) No matter how cliché it may sound, life isn't defined by the number of moments we breathe, but by the moments that take our breath away, and who we share them with. Work hand in hand with the people God has placed in your life. Encourage them along the way, and in return they will do the same for you. Hold one another accountable on this thrilling and terrifying expedition where each moment is a stepping stone to something great. And no matter what you do, let it be done in love.
I have no doubt that truly incredible things are in store for each and every one of us. But if all we do is look for incredible things, then how many of them will we miss along the way? My prayer is that as we proceed on the journey of life, we will allow ourselves to be shaped by all of the wonder and beauty around us, and maybe, just maybe, make every moment a Kairos.
But sometimes, I wonder how often we wait for time to define us, when really, time is ours to define. Like each unique grain of sand, each moment we are granted offers unique beauty if we are willing to open our eyes and look for it. Because if we can't find delicacy in the small things, how can we ever expect bigger things to come our way? Besides- "bigger" and "better" are things we construct in our minds- and they're never guaranteed. As we're reminded in James 4:13-14: "Come now you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit.' Whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away." So never forget to take advantage of the opportunities you have before they slip away. Devote each moment to what is important to you and to what has a positive impact on the world around you. Do this so that each day, you are continuing to make strides in the right direction, and each second is a defining one that begins a new voyage into things both new and exciting. Incorporate things that require you to step far out of your comfort zone and help you discover your amazing capabilities and passions. But never, ever forsake the small things. Take a moment in the morning to marvel at the way each drop of dew captures the brilliance of the blue sky. Stand in awe of the way the sun penetrates the clouds and bathes the leaves in golden light. Tell bad jokes, just to hear the sound of your own laughter. Smile at strangers, even when they don't smile back. No matter how gloomy things may seem on any given day, find something to enjoy. Even the biblical King Solomon, who saw so much futility and hopelessness in life, came to an important conclusion at the end of his otherwise bleak book Ecclesiastes: "After looking at the way things are here on this earth, here's what I've decided is the best way to live: Take care of yourself, have a good time, and make the most of whatever job you have as long as God gives you life. And that's about it. That's the human lot. Yes, we should make the most of what God gives, both the bounty and the capacity to enjoy it, accepting what's given and delighting in the work. It's God's gift! God deals out joy in the present, in the now. There's no use brooding over how long we might live" (Ecclesiastes 5:18-20).
Most importantly, never forsake a moment with those who mean the most to you. You don't have to be on a grand adventure to make memories; you can make them while sitting at a red light! (But please be careful to obey all traffic rules and regulations.) No matter how cliché it may sound, life isn't defined by the number of moments we breathe, but by the moments that take our breath away, and who we share them with. Work hand in hand with the people God has placed in your life. Encourage them along the way, and in return they will do the same for you. Hold one another accountable on this thrilling and terrifying expedition where each moment is a stepping stone to something great. And no matter what you do, let it be done in love.
I have no doubt that truly incredible things are in store for each and every one of us. But if all we do is look for incredible things, then how many of them will we miss along the way? My prayer is that as we proceed on the journey of life, we will allow ourselves to be shaped by all of the wonder and beauty around us, and maybe, just maybe, make every moment a Kairos.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Rolling on like a River
“But let justice roll
on like a river, righteousness like a never-falling stream!”
~ Amos 5:24
In the words of Francis Chan, one
of my favorite Christian authors and speakers, “We all know there’s a problem.”
While the world we live in is full of beauty, it’s also full of brokenness.
While we try to build bridges of peace and understanding, too many of our
interactions gape with selfishness and triviality. While we have countless
opportunities to fill ourselves with the joy we crave, many of us go to bed
each night feeling empty. So . . . there’s definitely a problem, and we all
claim to know its source. Some blame it on “the inherent immorality of
society,” others on “the corrupt nature of our politics,” and others on “anyone
whose views differ from my own.” I tend to disagree with all of these theories,
at least to an extent. Although I will admit that immorality and corruption are
prevalent issues, I look at them in a slightly different light; perhaps it’s
not about the bad things that we are doing, and more about the good
things that we’re not doing. Our lands are dry, and our people are
thirsting for more. So is cleaning up our language and changing our political
affiliation really going to bring abundance back to our land? Call me crazy,
but I’m thinking not.
In its most authentic form, faith
is not something that compels us to follow a set of intricately developed
rules. It’s something that compels us to take action against injustice and
oppression. We are saved by faith alone, but James 2:14-17 reminds us of an
important principle that we often forget, or at least conveniently overlook:
“What good is it, dear brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but it
doesn’t show by your actions? Can that kind of faith save anyone? Suppose you
see a brother or sister who has no food or clothing, and you say ‘Good-bye and
have a good day; stay warm and eat well’- but then you don’t give that person
any food or clothing. What good does that do? You see, faith by itself isn’t
enough. Unless it produces good deeds, it is dead and useless.” Dead and
useless, like a riverbed with no water, a painful reminder of an endless
drought.
I’ll be the first to admit that my
actions, or lack thereof, contribute to society’s problems. At times, I am the
problem. I’m the problem when I act like my own issues are so much more
important than the ones of those around me. I’m the problem when I turn a blind
eye to the homeless man on the street. I’m the problem when I hoard by wealth
for myself rather than sharing it with those in need. I’m the problem when I
allow my brothers and sisters in Christ to make a hateful comment about a
person or a generalization about a group of people. I’m the problem when I let
my fear inhibit me from taking action, even when I am perfectly capable of
doing so. I need to stop. I need to let a love for those in need to rain down
on me, washing away the soil of self-centeredness that is crusted on my heart.
Because if we claim to be Christians and our lives don’t show it, then we really
need to reconsider whether or not we can actually call ourselves followers of
Christ.
It’s relatively easy to follow
rules. It’s even easier to dedicate our lives to making sure everyone else’s
lives meet our expectations of “moral living.” It’s much more difficult to
abandon our selfish ambitions and live in such a way that displays the truth
that the son of God poured out his life for us, as undeserving as we are, and
now desires for us to pour out our lives for others, no matter how undeserving they
might seem. Only then will justice roll on like a river, and righteousness like
a never-falling stream. Only then will fresh waters return to our parched and
weary land, even if it only happens one drop at a time.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
13 Lessons Learned in 2013
13. Sometimes, all you need is a cheesy romance novel and
a long nap. A lot of the times, we make our problems way more complicated
than they need to be. Interestingly enough, their solutions are often simple.
Life and its challenges can be exhausting. So when we’re exhausted, we should
rest.
12. Imperfection is perfectly acceptable. I’ve lived
my life with the notion that I’m superwoman. Unfortunately, that is not the
case. I have faults. A lot of them, actually. But I’m no better or worse than
anyone else on this planet. We all have things we’re great at and things we
suck at. Just like a human body, however, all parts are needed for the creation
of a functioning whole. I’m so glad I have people in my life who can help me in
my weaker areas and vice versa.
11. Change is inevitable. But it isn’t always for the
worse. Towards the end of this past school year, I had to let go of quite a
few people and things that meant a lot to me. I thought that the world would
come to a striking halt. Strangely enough, it did not. While I still miss some
of the things I had to let go of, the earth continues to turn, and I continue
to discover new blessings each day.
10. Never underestimate yourself or God’s plans for your
life. This year, I’ve learned that I’m capable of a lot more than
originally thought. Looking back, I honestly regret excluding myself from
certain people or activities with a fear of not being “good enough.” You
weren’t created to spend your life comparing yourself to other people. When you
let God conform you into the person he created you to be, everything
else pretty much falls into place.
9. Reading good books is a good thing to do. One of
my resolutions for 2013 was to read 50+ books or other works of literature. I
met that goal, and each thing I’ve read has changed me in some way or another.
(With all that reading, you’d think I’d know an adjective other than ‘good.’
Maybe next year.)
8. Labels are stupid. People don’t fit in boxes. Much
less boxes with neatly crafted labels.
7. A smile can be a very powerful thing. Sometimes I
wonder if I freak people out with all my smiling. I probably do, but I can’t
help it. If nothing else, I hope that my life demonstrates what pure joy looks
like. So even when I’m really not as “fantastic” as I might profess to be, I
can always find something to be happy about. Everyone needs a little more hope
and a little less negativity.
6. When you get beneath the surface, most people have
really beautiful stories. The best way to show a person you care about them
is to listen to what they have to say.
5. Life requires discipline. I have to study to get
good grades on tests. I have to eat healthy and exercise to stay in shape. Blog
posts really aren’t as easy to write as I thought they would be. But is
anything that comes easy really worth having?
4. Laughter is the best medicine. I probably
shouldn’t confess that when I’m having a bad day I often sit in my room and
laugh hysterically. It’s kind of embarrassing. But at the end of the day, life
is pretty funny. (Note: The laughter treatment is even more effective when
shared with the people you care about.)
3. It’s really important to let people know what they
mean to you. Contrary to popular belief, it’s okay to be corny and
sentimental in public. My absolute best memory of 2013 was passing out
handwritten letters to the cast and crew of the school musical I participated
in. I didn’t really know how everyone would take it. Fortunately, they were all
quite touched- or they employed their best acting skills. In any case, studies
show that those who express gratitude to those who mean a lot to them are more
emotionally stable than those who don’t.
2. Hate added to hate doesn’t improve the hate situation.
There are too many hateful people in the world. And that sucks.
Unfortunately, hating hateful people doesn’t contribute to the solution. It
only worsens the problem. God loves everyone equally, and so should we.
1. The kindness you put into the world will always come
back to you in full. Even if the seeds of kindness you plant aren’t
harvested before your eyes, there’s no better feeling than knowing they were
planted. You never know how you’ll be used to touch someone else’s life, but
that should never stop us from trying.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)