How many truly contented people do you know? How many people are in your life about whom you could honestly say that they have everything they want and need? Someone who never says, “I’m not satisfied with only what I have—I want what they have”?
I don’t know anyone like that, but if I did, I’d want what they have!
This past Saturday, Ellie Lofaro and Kathy Troccoli were at our church doing a women’s conference, and I was there as a member of the tech team, running lights and video for them. During one of the sessions, Ellie was talking about the realities of being a parent. She described a typical scene in her house—one which, based on the amount of laughter in the room, almost everyone there could relate to, including me.
Ellie explained that one moment she could be thoroughly annoyed with her kids, yelling and making a huge fuss. The scene was interrupted by the phone, however, and instantly she was transformed into the model of kindness, her voice dripping with more butter and sugar than a Paula Dean dessert.
It occured to me this morning that this phrase—”the kindness of strangers”—is a bit ironic. Why is it that we are kinder to people we’ve never met than we are to those who are closest to us?
