Inside All the Pretty Houses

I am blessed to live in a lovely neighborhood.  The homes are so pretty, and the nature-preserve-type setting is peaceful and serene.  It is normally very quiet, except for the birds singing and the boats, barges, and Sea-Doos cruising up and down the river.  We're not convenient to anything but the Tennessee River, Browns Ferry Nuclear Plant, and a tiny cafe called Geezburger.  However, all of us who live here love the feeling of driving through the gates and knowing we are home.

It is easy to imagine that the people living inside all the pretty houses are living "pretty lives."  We assume they must have happy marriages, perfect health, model children, bulging portfolios, complete job security, and the total absence of worries of any kind.  But, that is simply not the case in this neighborhood or in ANY neighborhood for that matter.

This morning I decided to get to the community pool early, so I could exercise in peace before the expected Memorial Day visitors poured in.  It goes without saying, too, that I'm not fond of strutting around in a bathing suit in public.  Shudder!  As I was going into the pool area, a father and his teenage daughter were coming out.  They had gotten to the pool even earlier than I had, which was puzzling until I realized the reason.  The daughter has some kind of muscular condition -- perhaps she's even recovering from a stroke -- that makes walking and talking difficult.  The father was being very patient and careful with her and encouraged her to acknowledge my greeting.  The sight of those two reminded me of other situations I've become aware of going on in the houses around me.  In two of the homes, the husbands are suffering from congestive heart failure.  In at least one home, an apartment has been created for an elderly parent to live out her final days.  In a home near the entrance, a daughter has waged a difficult war against cancer in the past couple of years.  One family moved in after their house was destroyed by a tornado.  Another has a husband about to be deployed to the Middle East.  In one house, the main breadwinner just got laid off.  In yet another, there is a lot of loneliness because the husband travels heavily.

In other words, a home may have a perfect exterior facade, but the people living inside are human beings with everyday struggles, pain, and challenges.

Isn't it the same with the people sitting beside us in the pews on Sunday morning?  Don't we all "look pretty on the outside?"  We have on our "good clothes."  Our hair is combed, and we've got on a little extra make-up.  Yet, inside each of us lives a host of prayer needs, questions searching for answers, and seemingly insurmountable struggles.  Aren't we all humming silently in our heads "It's me, it's me, it's me, oh Lord, standing in the need of prayer?"  Maybe we should cut each other a little more slack.  How about if we take off our judging robes and put on mantles of compassion?  I'm preaching to myself today.  The sight of that dad and daughter brought a lot of conviction to my heart this morning.

1 Samuel 16:7b -- "For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."