G.I Joe

G.I Joe. There is a man that goes to the gym that I nod to in acknowledgment when we catch each others eye. We have said hello and over the span of years, never had a conversation. He is mountainous is size, a tower of gum chewing muscle. My training partner and I shake our heads frequently when Joe is near, because despite his massive muscles and clear ability to move heavy weights, it would appear he is incapable of lowering said weights quietly, once he is done with them. Clanking and crashing affects our sensibilities and he, head set secured in ears with music blaring, gives the impression he is unaware of his impact. I know differently, in fact, what I know is that there is a little boy inside the man that so much wants to be noticed that he draws attention to himself with loud noises and boisterous laughter and then fanes nonchalanance. Yesterday, I was at the gym and in my mind I decided I was done with a barbell and I was going to put it back where it belongs and I made the tiniest of tiny moves in the direction Joe was travelling, the move was more of a mental one with the barest of physical manifestations and yet, I was stunned when I witnessed Joes brief interruption in step, his inclination to make room for me to pass before him. This makes me grin, the big strong noisy man, sensitive to a petite female for whom he was gentle man enough to give way if I so desired to cross his path.This tells me that there is so much more than meets the eye and I needed a new perspective on Joe. I decided to send him love, through his solar plexus, to fill him up with the love that is all around us, like the oxygen we breathe. No longer willing to see him as insensitive, my eyes saw Joe, the gentle giant...and as I watched him walking away, I saw the shape of a cross on his t-shirt, a perfectly sweat shaped cross taking up the full width of his shoulders and the length of his massive back. My mind threatened to call my eyes LIARS and so I stared, confirming the clear impression of cross defined in sweat on Joes back...Who am I to judge, who am I to know the heart of another man, woman, child? Judgement prevented my senses from seeing and God gave me the gift of vision, of things present and yet unseen. God I pray that I see with the eyes of Your Heart, not mine. I once was blind but now I see, Grace amazes me. I want more of the Good God stuff, how about you?