He stood between the mudslingers divided
And did not cease in his humble work. They spattered him with dirt and bitterness, spat on him, jeered, And he did not cease in his humble work. They did not know him, they were ignorant of his magnificence, his authority, And he did not cease in his humble work. Little Child, recognized the heart of the King, Little Child with eyes to see He joined the King in his humble work. Mudslingers. Chaos and mudslingers. Then a man in work clothes enters the scene, stands between the divided people, and starts cleaning -- quietly, steadily, humbly. He is getting spattered in mud, yelled at, screamed over, but he continues in his work. Shoveling the mud away, digging deep. He is the King, but the people don't know him. He continues his work, as the mudslingers grow weary of their anger. He is the King, and his heart is for peace. Let us not lend our voice to mudslinging. Let us not lend our hearts to bitterness. Let us not glory in the despair of our neighbor, or despair in the gloating of our kin. Instead, let us be people willing to take mud in the face for the sake of peace and reconciliation. Let us be people who listen more than we speak. Let us be people who recognize the King, and join him in his work. Comments are closed.
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AuthorI write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own. Archives
February 2022
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