In a small Kentucky town, living in a creaky old house, I watched my dear neighbor mow a path through the fairy forest to the woods so I could walk through easier to go running. That kind of neighborly love is rare to come by.
One time I was lifting smallish weights in a sweaty smelling gym. There was a guy in the same room talking on the phone. As I feebly lifted I thought of how he could be my neighbor in heaven. Then my heart broke and that’s all I wanted to do was to know him, his name, his heart.
How amazing you craft our earthly neighbors. The ones that mow paths through tall grass and give you tomatoes. You also consider our heavenly neighbors. The ones we may not know yet.
As I walk through the day, help me to see all the people around me as potential neighbors. Then I will be able to love my neighbor as myself more simply.
Thank you for neighbors, on earth as it is in heaven.