Every Epiphany for the past few years, our church has given out stars with a single word on them, sort of like a Christian-inspired fortune cookie. You randomly pick your star out of the basket, prayerfully hoping that it gives you some guidance for the coming year. This year, my word was "kindness."
Kindness. What am I supposed to do with that? For those who don't know me, I am one of the kindest people you will meet (and the most humble, haha). Kindness is a very important value in my life, my raison d'etre - "Love your neighbor as yourself" and all that. I really believe in that, as hokey as it sounds. And yet, my star is kindness.
My five-year-old picked "ponder." Okay, so that actually fits. It would fit just about anyone, but hey, it's good for her. She (and most five-year-olds) need to stop and think once and awhile. My husband picked "serenity." Whoa, God, you are really challenging him this year, aren't you? I love my hubby dearly, but he struggles with deep, almost crippling, anxiety. He worries and worries and worries away. So, congratulations. Your star is perfect for you.
But kindness? What am I supposed to do with that? I know I am not a stellar (haha, pun intended) example all of the time, but I do pretty good for myself.
And yet. I judge. I tease. I ridicule. Is it always in fun? Or is it a self-preservation technique? Perhaps those are some of the questions that I must grapple with this year. What is kindness, truly? Am I living out the kindness to which I so desperately aspire? I know the answer is "no," and my excuse is that I am not perfect. I am a broken sinner who cannot measure up to the standard which Jesus has set and therefore need a savior. ...But do I truly believe that? Deep down? Or am I regurgitating years of Sunday School, Catechism, and sermons?
I don't know.
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