Like Jesus

None of us can be just like Jesus.
I am certain.

But sometimes I observe familiar qualities in other people and know I am recognizing glimpses of him.

My mom is a beautiful woman who looks like she spends way more time and money on her appearance than she actually does. When she gets her hair cut, she doesn't go to a fancy salon or an expensive stylist.

She goes to Rose.

Rose is a single mom who is recovering from a drug addiction. One of the churches loaned her a space to cut hair as she tries to put her life back together, piece by piece. "She needs people to give her a chance," my mom often tells me over the phone, after scheduling her next appointment with Rose.

When my mom's husband, Derek, needed extra help at his business, he employed the services of a little man with a heavy accent, missing half his teeth, and struggling to make ends meet. Antonio throws every part of himself into the job, working non-stop until Derek insists that he sit down and take a break, then Antonio proudly shows off pictures of his grandkids.

Last December when the temperatures drastically dropped, Antonio continued arriving to work in a thin, threadbare jacket. Derek noticed and went out and bought a heavy winter coat, which he quietly presented to his dedicated employee as an 'early Christmas present.' Antonio cried.

Intentionally seeking out people that others might shun or overlook.
Believing in them.
Treating them in ways that show they matter.

Like Jesus did when he touched the leper,
when he engaged the Samaritan woman in meaningful conversation,
or when he slipped to earth quietly,
to a man and woman the world probably scarcely noticed.

When he showed the poor,
the outcasts,
the sinful,
the broken,
the sick,
the rejected,
and the struggling
that they matter.

That is like Jesus.