Seeds (1 Corinthians 3:5-9)

Seeds. The little things people notice. Smiles. The way you treat a stranger. How you carry yourself. You being you. It's not your best, but the unguarded moments that people notice. People, desperate for hope, know when you are faking it, and they are intrigued when you are not.

Through the magic of the interwebs, I was able to connect with someone who made an impact on my life almost twenty years ago. I was an outgoing, mildly popular seventeen year old who seemed to have it together, at least on the outside. She was a humble yet confident classmate often sporting a Fellowship of Christian Athletes T-shirt. What made her stand out in my senior class of three-hundred fifty was her authenticity. There was no facade, no mask, no barriers. Her smile was genuine and she had an uncanny ability to laugh at herself. I don't think we ever actually had a conversation, but after I started college, a year later and 800 miles away, I remembered that T-shirt. When my world turned dark, I knew where I could find light.

This morning, my wife is distraught. Kim is reading Shane Claiborne's The Irresistible Revolution and feels a deep desire to reach out to those who are hurting by meeting their basic needs. An introvert, the thought of approaching those in need is intimidating. I hear the ache she has for people marginalized by society. After lunch, she reminds me about a woman who asked about an child's car seat at our garage sale. We have one we rarely use, so she goes up the street to give her the car seat. When Kim gets to the door, the older woman is excited to see her. She explains that she is raising her three year old granddaughter by herself and that she has few friends in the community. Few people in the area want to befriend an older Muslim woman from Pakistan. The woman reminds my wife that a couple of years ago, we gave her a high chair after it didn't sell at our last garage sale. Kim listens to the woman's struggles raising her granddaughter with few resources, and helps her get the phone number for the local Parents As Teachers program. My wife also invites the woman to come down with her granddaughter to play.

Simple acts, planted in obedience and fertilized with prayer grow into fruitful opportunities. Starting with seeds.