There’s more than what the eyes can see

It’s amazing how God created us differently. From the most obvious contrasts such as the color of our skin, the tone of our voice, the texture of our hair, our body mass and height, down to the story of our lives–our experiences, what we do everyday, our cultural and family background. No two man is exactly the same. One’s life is unique to one’s story. Your story is unique to your life. God made us that special. When He planned your existence, He had only you in His mind that moment. He wasn’t thinking of anyone else..but you. Every single detail of your life, the number of times you’ll stumble, the name of your parents, the circumstances you’ll go through when you reach your 20’s, the kind of childhood you’ll have, the length of your years with white hair. He knows what will be even before you become. Again, He knows. Even before.

We are weaved and formed differently from each other. I believe it’s what makes this world an interesting place to live in. Just imagine how it would be dealing with someone everyday who’s exactly like you–same thoughts, same ideas, same style of hair, same pair of jeans, same interests, same opinions, same voice, same taste in food. Same everything. I imagine a peaceful earth, but a very boring, dull, and lifeless earth. Thank God we were not cloned but peacefully and wonderfully made as the person we are right now. Yes, WE. Including the stranger you cross the road with, your officemates who graduated with different college degrees, the neighbor you always see staring at the window everyday, the policeman in the intersection, the streetchildren, the vendors, and that guy you find cute with eyeglasses. All of them is a wonderful creation like you, regardless of how they look like or how much money they have in their pockets.

Two days ago, a 5-year old boy very very close to my heart reminded me of how our differences are to be embraced, accepted, and sometimes even disregarded to be able to reach out and build genuine relationships with the people around us. This kid who grew up in the city and barely speaks Tagalog has so easily connected with the laid back children residing outside the city who loves playing outdoors and who are more comfortable conversing in our native tongue. They are from two different worlds so to speak, that if you imagine them to be adults, you’d say they won’t probably jive together. But they are kids. And kids are amazing relationship builders in a way that they don’t judge a person based on what the eyes can see. What they simply want is a companion. Someone who would run when they try to start a chase or would agree to go with them some place fun where they could play together and just be kids. The main objective is not to find someone as good-looking or as behaved; it is simply to reach out. For them, as long as you enjoy the simple things that make both of you happy,  there’s no questioning why your hair is like that or why you don’t know how to use an iPad. You are a fellow-kid. A playmate. A friend. Differences are no big deal.

It was such a beautiful sight: three kids of different ages from different backgrounds speaking different thoughts, sitting in a row in front of the house. There is this invisible, powerful force that binds them together. They may not be aware of it, but these kids are actually showing the entire world and everyone passing by the house that moment what a genuine relationship looks like. They are sitting in their own chairs, munching junk food they bought for themselves. Even without verbalizing what to do next (or without an adult telling them what to do), they all agreed to grab that chair and rest their tired bodies in that manner: with a junk food and a good friend by their side. They’re not even chatting endlessly but they look so happy just being there. Who cares where they go to school or what dialect they speak? Nobody. Not even them.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made. Am I making people around me feel that they truly are?

I was staring at the kids long enough to feel the shame and guilt.

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