Who’s fault is it?
When we don’t know things about people, who’s fault is it?
We can say that they were private person, didn’t talk about themselves, but did we ever ask questions?
If we did ask questions and they were vague or changed the subject, that’s one thing. But if we never even wanted to get to know somebody better to ask them questions about themselves, we are to blame.
Recently a family member passed. Someone on my husband side, actually the husband of one of his cousins. I had only seen him a handful of times, although once we stayed at their home. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about him other than I knew he had high blood pressure. Who’s fault is that? I’m taking responsibility. Was it shyness? Or was it simply that I am too self-absorbed to genuinely care enough to be curious about others? Or I was only concerned about what they thought of me?
I vow to be more generous with my questioning. To be more caring, to be more curious. To search out ways to connect with people.
By simply looking outside of myself, being interested, and asking questions.
I’m finding that the opposite of this is the source of much pain. One who is always absorbed with themselves, their problems, their downfalls, their sins, are never going to be happy. It’s when we focus on others, searching for good things in others, searching for ways to connect, and being interested in things and people outside of our own lives, that we are able to feel God’s presence, see His beauty, and see Him working... as He silently works on us.
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