Moments of Kindness

My friend and I were sitting in a café, enjoying our hot beverages and chatting eagerly. I was saying how remarkable it was that even though my life was filled with pain and illness, I was still able to write books and do music stuff.

“It is so strange,” I commented. “Even in the middle of my chaos, my writing and music is still going well. They are one part of my life not filled with stress.”

“That is God’s kindness,” my friend remarked.

The words resounded in my ears.

”That is God’s kindness.”

I felt weepy at that moment. Kindness. God’s kindness. What did I ever do to deserve God’s kindness?

The answer, of course, is nothing. I have done nothing at all to deserve kindness from God. He does not give me kindness because I earn it. He gives kindness because of his larger-than-life love for me. He is kind because I am his child.

He cannot help himself. Kindness is in his nature.

Kindness is in his nature.

Which makes me think. There have been, and still are, moments of kindness all through my illness.

There is a moment of kindness when my doctor listens to me.

There is a moment of kindness when the specialist takes my relapses and worries seriously.

There is a moment of kindness when a fellow patient holds the door open for me.

There is a moment of kindness when a friend has a cuppa with me, without trying to advise or suggest or pray or fix.

There is a moment of kindness when the test results finally give an answer.

There is a moment of kindness when the pain is not as bad as it was yesterday.

There is a moment of kindness when people at work ask how I am really doing.

There is a moment of kindness when church friends welcome me.

There is a moment of kindness when I feel weak and exhausted and brain-foggy, yet I can sit down and write a blog.

There is a moment of kindness when old songs come to mind, refreshing my soul like water pouring on hardened clay.

There is a moment of kindness when I stop telling myself how I ‘Should’ be feeling or acting or grieving or recovering or relapsing.

There is a moment in time, a breath of kindness, when God steps briefly into my dream to whisper his love to me.

Moments of kindness are all around. The kindness does not cure my illness or take away the pain. But it is there. Even in pain and suffering, even in the midst of chaos, kindness exists.

Even in the midst of chaos, kindness exists.

And I will not forget it.

Are there moments of kindness in your life? How does kindness change your experience of suffering? Share your story – let’s have a countercultural conversation.

4 thoughts on “Moments of Kindness

  1. Absolutely Steph – it is so easy to miss seeing God in those little moments of kindness, or faithfulness, or love. It is so important, but we keep forgetting. I keep forgetting! I think we are living in a Christian culture that seeks the big miracles with the Wow! factor, while all the time God is gently whispering “did you see my gentle touch today in those little moments?” Thank you for the reminder 🙂

    • Thank you for your beautiful response, Valmai. I love the idea of God whispering, “Did you see my gentle touch today?” I wonder what it will be like to look back on our lives and see God’s soft fingerprints all over our history. His kindness will be so apparent on that day.

  2. Yes it will be wonderful Steph to look back on that day, and see God’s touch throughout our lives. The other thing I like about a whisper is that it suggests intimacy – you have to be very close to a person to hear their whisper.

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