Everyday it is so tempting to live inside my bubble.  Temperature-controlled, attitude- controlled, volume-controlled, this home is my place of rest and refuge.  In here it is cozy, it is safe. Here I am free to mother as I choose, laugh and cry as needed, and worship the way God asks of me.  Nobody thinks I am weird.  Quirks are not frowned upon inside my bubble, they are celebrated.

Here I am as free as I will ever be on this side of heaven.  Free to make mistakes, as I often do. Free to learn from those mistakes.

I love my bubble.

The problem is, my bubble is too comfortable.  Instead of a place of refuge, it becomes a place of escape, a place to hide.  A place where I don’t have to consider the needs of those outside.  A place where I don’t have to remember the sufferings of those who have not been blessed with a bubble of their own.

Those people I see when I have to venture outside my four-walled bubble, those people who sit on curbs with downcast eyes, shoeless feet, matted hair, those who have needs that go unmet, who have deep longings inside their soul for things that come easy inside my bubble, those people need me.

Well, not just me.  Maybe, you.  Really, they need someone. Anyone.

Someone who recognizes that life is about taking risks in service to others.  Someone who recognizes that hands and feet were made to go and serve.  Someone who recognizes that a life spent serving others is a blessed life indeed.

Those people, the people who are poor in spirit, who go to bed with stomachs that roar, who long for someone to notice how much their heart aches, they often look like you and me.

They look like my children.  In fact, they are just like them.  Were they not once someone’s baby? Precious and soft.  Tender and sweet. If they were as blessed as I, someone once cradled them in their arms and looked into their eyes.  Someone once thought they were infinitely valuable.  Someone once cared.  If not, then perhaps they are the neediest of all.

How often am I careless with all the Lord has blessed me with?  How often do I turn a blind eye to the man who longs for bread, while walking into yet another restaurant? How easily do I purchase yet another pair of shoes, while I know someone who struggles to cover their child’s feet?  How many times have I shivered and turned the heater up, and yet not given a second thought to the man whose cardboard house is all he has to keep out the night wind?  How often have I indulged my own selfish desires, while overlooking the deep and painful obvious needs of those who live all around me.

What would it look like, if we all, just for a moment, left our bubbles?  What if each day, I kept my eyes open, and longed to meet the needs of others, rather than reluctantly tossing change into the Styrofoam cup of the woman with the sad eyes.  What if our self-worth came from the Lord, and how He chose to use us, instead of all the other ridiculous things that take up too much of our time and energy?

What if we were available?

What if we gave, and gave, then we gave just a little bit more?  How deeply could I affect someone’s world?

If only I leave my bubble.

‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Lord, guide me in recognizing the deep needs of others.  Help me to keep my heart open to serving those who cannot serve themselves.  Guide me in denying myself so that I can love others more.  Instill a love of others in my children, and guide us all in doing your will.