A Little Bit of Goodness

I wonder why they are walking up the stairs.  It's funny to think that I can see them and they
don't know they are being observed.  I see they're wearing IDs...must be some type of
official establishment. Why does the building have such large and clear windows up the
entire stairwell?  I wonder...

...how they think that of me.  Why is it that they view my words

of comfort and hope as wisdom?  Anything useful I have to say is 

just what God speaks, what he has taught.  They don't know, I 

guess, of the things deep inside.  Of the past hurts and aches,

crimes and darkness.  They don't see my inmost being the way 

I do: the dark places occupied by selfish sins, greeds, and lusts.

If only they could see, they would no longer...

...scratch themselves.  Or worse.  What lewd acts do we perform when we think

no one is looking?  How often have people walked up those stairs and caught a 

second to smoke, to unzip and tuck in their shirt, or even exposed their secret

places to satisfy a dark and dirty desire?  And what I am watching for?  Am I

hoping to catch a glimpse of wanton privacy?  Or maybe I am just...

...watching for something special to emerge.  So many times I see 

the glimmers of possibility expose themselves for a moment.  Is

that not my task, not to be some freak wise man but rather to be 

the quiet cricket telling them , showing them of the beauty made 

in them by the Creator?  Perhaps that is what wisdom is: seeing 

the truth and speaking it when there is need.  It is not that I must

know their innermost secrets, but rather that I want to encourage

the brightness of their spirit and help them release their fears.

And I just hope they never misread it.  That is the constant fear,

is it not?  That confluence of fear and  darkness that dreads the 

possible-inevitable and hopes, prays, works to make it the

impossible.  But I cannot live in fear, and so I must do what is right,

for them, and continue to sacrifice the darkness to the Light...even

in my secret thoughts.  But even so, God will...

...make all things good.  How interesting.  I thought he stopped

to chat her up, but he was simply being courteous.  Why did he

move aside?  Does he always, for anyone, or is it just because it

was a woman coming up the stairs?  I have taken pride in myself, 

noticing the lack of air-conditioning due to the open windows, the

IDs and lack of doors in the stairwell.  But of what use is this pride?

Here I lie, watching people's lives as they walk up and down stairs.

And I am satisfied.  What will continue today is that one man's gesture

of respect, and since I do not know his whole life, only this brief instant,

I must take it for what it seems to be.  A little bit of goodness.  Oh

how many times do I get a glimpse and see the poverty of the soul!

And yet here, in this quietude of my bedroom watching the sonorous

steps across the way, was given the gift of someone's thoughtfulness.

It gives me hope.

Is that what sets me apart, God?  Is it that a little bit of kindness,

of goodness, shines into their lives?  And yet, like the young man

in the stairs, all the goodness that I have flows from the throne of your

grace.  Whether through parents, friends, or strangers, or directly, all

goodness flows from your throne.   Just as your grace does.

It is enough then.  May the small moments of my time in their lives be the same as that one gesture.  That while so many expect failure and darkness, as is typical of the world, may the light you give me shine through, exposing them to your Love and Tenderness.  And I am but a portal, a little bit of goodness reflecting your light in my life.  It is enough.

Good morning, world.