His Eyes

I watched a basketball game this weekend where third and fourth grade girls were teammates.

There was one girl who caught my attention. A girl who touched my heart. A girl who clearly did not fit in.

She didn't have the same stylish shorts the other girls wore. She didn't have the same name brand shoes, either.

Her hair was disheveled. Her face held no expression. She was there. She just wasn't there.

Toward the end of the game, standing just outside the gym doors was another young girl, identical to the girl on the court. Same hair, just a bit lighter, younger, with more expression. Probably because she'd yet to feel the hurt her older sister had. Growing up sometimes sucks. Next to her, I could see another little girl. Finally, the mother brings all her children into the gym. She's carrying a little boy and two girls trail her, one pushing a stroller with another child inside.

Five children.

Before I even see the girl's family, while she's on the court, I remember third and fourth grade. I hated third and fourth grade.

Hated.

If you aren't the girl who has the right clothes, shoes, backpack, etc. you don't fit in.

Then, when Mama walked in with four more children, it was obvious she didn't fit in. Five kids.

Five.

I'm sure every eye was on this mama while she walked in front of everyone to get to her spot in the gym. Each mind wondering, why, if she can't afford to buy them the latest trends, would she continue to have more? They passed in front of us quickly. But they were on my mind, my heart all day. Still. Part of it is because I wonder if that's how people viewed my single mom raising my two younger sisters and me. Did people wonder why she continued to have kids if she could barely support us? Did people pity us? Did people snub us? Did they roll their eyes?

Yes.

But they also didn't know my mom's situation.

I don't know that mama's situation.

But He does. He knows her situation. He loves that mama and her five babies. He sees them and loves them, adores them. He doesn't care about their clothing, their shoes, He cares about their hearts. He cares about what people think of them because they are His. He doesn't look at that mama and sigh or roll His eyes.

I didn't talk to her after the game. I wanted to. But didn't. I wanted to encourage her. Bringing four young kids into a small gym takes some...stuff. Big stuff. Just taking my two kiddos out and about is tiring at times. I wanted to tell her I thought she was strong. Again, I didn't. It's sad how easy it is for me to wonder what other people will think of me talking to a stranger. I'm embarrassed of myself. Ashamed.

I want to see people the way He sees. Whether rich or poor. I want to love as He loves. And that requires getting out of my comfort zone.

To grow, I need to be out of my comfort zone. To be like Jesus, to see like Jesus, I need to be more into Jesus.