"Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta. The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us all because it was raining and cold."
Unusual kindness. These words have warmed my January. We are a 'chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people' (1 Peter 2:9). And while we're here, we might as well be showing unusual kindness.
Kindness is something I was always taught. Bless my parents, I'm sure they threw up their hands often, in praise and in despair. Help your brother up, unload the dishwasher for your mom, feed your horses before you feed yourself, talk to the new kid. They reminded me often, and I haven't forgotten.
I want unusual kindness to be my theme. If the idea of it warmed my January, then putting it into action will set my February on fire. Forget holding the door for the little old lady, why wouldn't I hold the door and tell her she has a beautiful brooch and then chatter about her grandchildren as I carry her groceries to her car? Why would I just smile at the tired and beautiful mama in Canadian Tire, when I could tell her she's doing a wonderful job, and pick up the fallen teddy, and give her a beaming smile?
The islanders built a fire and welcomed Paul, and still kept being kind even when a serpent bit him and they felt uneasy about his overall lack of reaction to a lethal snake bite. I imagine them offering him the best they had, even when he had rode in on a storm that should have killed him. So WHY am I not following the islanders lead?
Unusual kindness. Giving until it hurts. Rewriting my deadlines, my wants, my goals. Giving back the love to the weary world that my Saviour has so selflessly given to me.
Unusual kindness is my theme. And I pray I can be a light. I pray I can give the world a glimpse of how lovely The Man I pray to really is. I pray His Love can be felt by those I touch. I pray His Goodness can be seen as I walk into a coffee shop and order a latte for the person behind me. And one for me. I pray His Grace can be evident as I apologize, as I get up after a fall with a smile on my face, as I turn the other cheek, as I stay late at work to help out my friends.
I'm so imperfect. Dust. But I was made by a Wonderful Creator. And because of His Goodness, I'm here. I'm smiling. Saved. And I pray I'm unusually kind.