Walking in an upscale neighborhood, I rounded a corner to see a house under construction. Across the street was an elegant federal design brick house, with large elms surrounded by hostas and lilies. Next door was a stucco and half-timbered chalet enhanced by an arbor festooned with clematis. The undone house sat on a corner expanse of beige clay. The bare landscape, littered with pieces of house-wrap and stacks of grayed wood, looked like an unmade bed in Martha Stewart’s house. I wondered how the "Marthas" of the neighborhood felt. Were they patient with the process of building, even though it seemed to be taking longer than usual? Did they silently mutter to themselves as they passed the eyesore on their way to the city to work? Or had they banded together to file a lawsuit to force completion–no unmade beds in their houses!
Then I thought of the people I knew whose lives are "under construction." Those who falter at the social graces, who dress oddly, or who struggle with anxiety or depression. Am I patient with them, even though they take longer than I think they should to "get it together?" We all take the time it takes to get ourselves together. Some of us never get as "together" as we hope. Do we mutter to ourselves about that person who irritates us with chatter? Worse, do we band together to ostracize him?
Where do we find grace and compassion for the "undone" people among us?
Jesus, you specially sought out those who were on the fringes of society. Please give us your compassion.