I love you

I swept the crumbs up from under the tiny table, did my last round of checks around the building and waited for my brother, Jason, to lift the garbage bags out from their bins. We walked outside together, he locked up the doors, and he accompanied me to the truck before heading back to put the garbage bags in the huge bins around back. I watched him in the glow of the streetlights, without any other cars left in the parking lot, and exhaustion rimming my eyes. He walked with such purpose, even this late, that it made me appreciate him a little more than usual, and I grasped onto the thread of comfort that came with my new job, which was getting to be near my brother every time I worked.

Somewhat early in college, I had my first interview for a real job, and it was a desk job at the YMCA gymnastics center somewhat near us. Most likely due to their desperate need for man-power, I was rewarded the job. Since I was away in college during the weekdays, I ended up only available to work during the weekends, which mainly consisted of little children's birthday parties and some gymnastics events where parents asked questions that I didn't know the answers to and no one else was working that I could ask for help. Needless to say, I felt like a fish out of water. I didn't enjoy much about the job, but it was always a highlight that I could be near Jason and be able to lean on him when I needed it. It was a lot.

Jason was a course instructor for various offerings and for various ages. He has always worked well with others, and has an overflowing amount of energy when it comes to children. From my seat behind the desk, I could see him bouncing from one obstacle to another, performing the tasks for the course with enthusiasm, and paying attention to each person. In one of his classes, there was an extremely autistic child, that never spoke a word. I was not at the facility at the same time that he was, so I was never able to meet him, but the boy found comradery with Jason. Over the course of several weeks, they formed a bond. One night after finishing up the class, the child went to Jason, gave him a big hug and said "I love you."

Absorbing the reality and the impact of the child saying these words, let alone speaking at all, is extremely emotional. I recalled the story earlier this week and felt the instant desire to share it. It causes me to wonder about how our actions hold more weight than we might understand, and how the places where we hear "I love you" might be quiet and often overlooked, but they are worth paying attention to.

What we do, how we present ourselves when we do it, and why we do it all matter. Showing up to others eager to serve, being fully available to the moment we are in, and radiating joy all are ways that we share God's love. Matthew 5:14-16 reads "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in Heaven." These verses express to us the importance of sharing the joy of salvation, the enthusiasm for God's hand working in our lives, the peace that comes from laying our burdens at the base of the cross. We never know who our light may touch. It might be the quietest one in our peers, it might be the smallest of children in our neighborhood, it might be the loneliest person looking for guidance. It makes it important that we remain kind, joyful, and caring, even when the loudest voices we hear sometimes might be unkind, rude, and inconsiderate.

If we rely upon the world to maintain our joy, we are simply fooling ourselves, and will find that burnout is inevitable. In this way, we can rely upon God to be our source of light in which to share with others. When we give selflessly, love unabashedly, and care without shame, we can begin to truly make a difference in the world around us. Matthew 6:1-4 states "Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in Heaven. Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees you in secret will reward you." These verses explain that we are to give and love and do not because we want praise or recognition or acceptance from our peers, but because God loves us and we can share that love, because God gives to us and we can't ever out-give Him, because we are so filled with joy over the gift of salvation that we are overflowing.

The places that we find love can sometimes be surprising. I am sure that Jason never guessed he would have heard the words from a nonverbal autistic child after one of his YMCA gymnastics classes. What's important is that even though he didn't expect it from there, it still means just as much, if not more, than if it came from somewhere else. God's love is often found in the quietest places, the moments that we might miss if we rush, and in the people that we least expect it from. The reasons Jason didn't miss the message are because he was fully present, he was listening, and he paid attention. How many times have we missed one of God's quiet "I love you"s because we were distracted, stressed, or busy? Maybe it's a reminder for us all to slow down a moment, turn down the noise so we can listen, and be fully present for God. He is there for us and He is reaching out His hand towards us! He tells us "I love you" more times than we could ever imagine, we just have to be paying attention and listening so we can hear Him!