We Sat in the Waiting Room…

We sat in the waiting room, just us and the older woman. She sweetly tried to draw Margaret out – saying hi, complimenting her hair. Despite our nudges, Margaret just shyly stared back. After some more attempts and some laughs over Margaret’s shyness, the lady light-heartedly said, “I have to ask, is she used to black people? I know some kids who just don’t know what to do with people who look different.” We assured her it wasn’t that. This was just how Margaret was with everyone at first. The lady was called back to the doctor, but her words lingered in my head, even now, months later.

Her words challenged me. I realized that honestly in Margaret’s short, almost two years of life, she’s had limited exposure to people whose lives look different than ours, specifically whose skin looks different than ours, which means for almost 2 years I’ve had limited exposure too as a result of getting to stay home with her. It’s not that we’ve had zero exposure or avoided exposure or discouraged exposure by ANY means; some of it is just the natural by-product of staying home more with young children. But I acknowledge that we haven’t gone out of our way to seek it out. I don’t want that to be the case for the next 18+ years. I don’t exactly know the words to say, the actions to take, or how to wisely and safely expose myself and my family to different experiences and perspectives, but those lady’s words have clung to me, and it’s where I want to begin. I want to relate more and listen more to those of a color different than mine – different skin, different beliefs, different experiences. We very much need to see and learn from the beauty God has worked through the diversity of all of His image bearers. I want to stand for the value of all human life, maybe not on the direct front lines, but at the very least in my own home.

I don’t want to be motivated purely by social trends but by a woman in a waiting room, by real life people, by relationship. I want to act humbly by asking questions and listening. I want to speak words of truth and life, overflowing from the truth and life found in God’s Word. I want a heart softened and changed more and more by Jesus Christ, who knew injustice first hand, who hates mistreatment of God’s children, who met the suffering, the sick, the persecuted, the voiceless, the sinner, you, me with the hope of eternal justice and peace. I grieve what is happening in our world, but I grieve not without hope because my hope is in the the One who formed the very foundations of this world, who watches us continually turn away from His design, but still chose to seek and save us; my hope is in the One who came with “the Spirit of the Lord resting upon him, the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, who delights in the fear of the Lord, who does not judge by what His eyes see, or decides disputes by what His ears hear, but with righteousness judges and decides with equity for the meek of the earth.” (Is. 11:1‭-‬4); my hope is in the One who will one day before all nations, all people claim His final victory where “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:4).

We sit in another waiting room of sorts until that day, but this waiting room isn’t about just sitting passively. I may not know exactly what to do, but I’m knowing more and more all that needs done. I know I’m still learning, I know I’m still hoping, and I know God is still on His throne.