How is it that a genuinely kind family has lived just two doors down for nearly ten years without my knowledge? Of course I knew the house was inhabited by relatively nice people. I waved when I noticed them outside, donated to the Boy Scouts when their son came by with goodies, etc., etc. But I never took the time to know them.
Last weekend I baby sat their two children (ages ten and eight) for the first time.
They are some of the sweetest, most polite, and most agreeable children I have ever met.
They were content to just be.
We had fun playing Stratego
(rather, I had fun losing to their mastermind son!),
watching (my dad watch) football
(this is going to be a lonnnng season!),
and eating raw peppers
(a personal new favorite, especially with hummus!).
This led me to thinking:
how many wonderful people have I passed by because I've failed to step outside of my own little life? The kind family two lots over is too close to overlook. The annoying classmate in the next seat is too close to overlook. The weary homeless man on the street corner is too close to overlook.
The list could go on.
I don't want to forget that God's heart beats for people.
Please be patient with me as I learn how to juggle responsibilities and relationships. :)