It’s Impolite to Stare

A disabled man with a shriveled leg,                                                                                                  Loaded down with a grocery bag                                                                                                   Somehow manages his own wheelchair                                                                                              I quickly turn away, it’s impolite to stare.

A woman approaches, pushed from behind                                                                                Distorted, deformed, bitter, unkind                                                                                                    I resist the temptation to gaze at the chair                                                                                          Instead, turn away, it’s impolite to stare.

Sure I care, but what can I do?                                                                                                          I’ve got my own problems and I’m busy, too!                                                                                 So when I see an approaching chair                                                                                                     I turn away, it’s impolite to stare.

I turn away but I have no peace                                                                                                         What is this feeling that gnaws at me                                                                                                This attitude of mine, could it be sin?                                                                                                 I turn away but I struggle within.

How would I feel if heads turned away                                                                                            As I approached they’d have nothing to say                                                                                What if my life were ordained as such                                                                                          Even with God’s grace, could I handle as much?

It’s lonely enough for the average Joes                                                                                           But think how it must be for those                                                                                                Who, anywhere their wheelchair goes                                                                                             Perceives the populace look down its nose.

Attitudes like these are very real                                                                                                    The lack of love just makes them feel                                                                                       They’re in the way and they’re unwanted                                                                                          But will this leave their souls undaunted?

So I said to myself, “Next time, wheelchair!                                                                                      I’ll not turn away, nor will I stare                                                                                                      I’ll avoid the extremities, broken and maimed                                                                             And will search out the eyes that have seen so much pain.

“I’ll offer a smile to that one sitting there                                                                                        To show my acceptance of her and her chair                                                                                    I will not rush through the moment so brief                                                                                 Perhaps I’ll even say ‘Hi!’ when we meet.

“But I know for certain I won’t turn away                                                                                         The encounter might even season the day.”

And so I did it…I smiled at the face                                                                                                 And she smiled back!  Now THAT is God’s grace.

• For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.    Psalm 139:13-14
  
• SONG:  THE PARALYTIC  – Music by Kathleen

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  [This life is temporary. This life is short.  When this life is over, our bodies will die and become empty shells, but our souls will continue to live forever.  Where will the “real you” live?  Will you live for all eternity separated from God?  Or will you spend eternity in the presence of God in heaven?   Learn more so you can make your most important decision:   http://www.godlife.com/gospel/  and  http://www.godlife.com/en/about-christianity

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