Get the Look

Time to do - Not just see

A tough time at the barber this morning. It was all I can do to not weep out loud.
Humaneness and brokenness surrounded me. I was reminded of those who had “no hope”
or those who won’t find it if we keep it to ourselves.

You don’t have to look far
to see a damaged child

Her heart already scarred
Her coping methods wild

It won’t take long and
you’ll hear the lonely sigh

They’re suffering all around us
You can hear their solemn cry

You mustn’t travel long to
find a breaking heart

His fears, his pain, and
his unforgiving start

Sometimes that jolt of reality strikes fast
but, our own struggles        bump us
and what we saw doesn’t last

Time to do – not just see
Not just looking – time to BE

Compassion for others –
what the Father calls us toward

Time to move past self
Time to follow the Lord

Story Behind the Poem
I had no clue when going for our beginning of the school year haircuts, that our morning would be “interrupted” by heartache. The grandma, dad, preteen daughter, and young boy entered the room. All our senses alarmed us that these children were unkempt and possibly ignored. When her name was called, she didn’t know how to respond when asked “how do you want your hair?” She wanted it cut.

Just moments later, the beautician let the grandmother know that she could not proceed until the giant knot was removed from the young girl’s hair. The next twenty minutes consisted of both dad and grandma trying to unknot her hair and finding out it was a pop tart that had tangled it’s way in to stay for several weeks. The preteen young lady responded in pain with hisses and curse words, pounding her fists and scratching at her relatives. The struggle to loosen the pop tart only got worse when her father continually made sure to let her know “This would have never happened if you’d only take care of yourself!” followed by “and if you hit me again, I’ll take you outside and who knows what will happen.”

The little boy, after some coaxing with the promise of candy and an assurance that what he was feeling was just “tickles,” began to look like a little man as the long locks fell from his head and on to the floor. At one point, his the lady sighed and asked about the “boo boo” his new loss of hair exposed.

I’m not sure if I walked in with any of my own baggage BUT I walked out in tears with the reminder that those of us who have hope must share it. Stories like this should not make us run away but rather asking God what he would have us do to love and reach those who are without!





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