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Rain Shadows
A few days ago as I sat on a monorail at Disneyland. Beside me was a middle aged woman with her cell phone out. I curiously dropped my gaze to the screen. A picture of a smiling little boy stared back at her sad eyes. She remained still, frozen, for a good few heavy moments. She then exited out of the picture and scrolled through her contacts to the word "Home", and pressed the green call button. She carried the phone up to her ear. I could here it ringing. After a few rings, there was nothing, and she slipped the phone back into her pocket slowly and tenderly. As I nonchalantly turned my head in her direction, I saw tears building up in her eyes. It was all actually just so sad to witness. Something inside me wanted to comfort her. Something inside me was nagging to say, "You really miss him don't you. I'm sure he misses you too."
But I didn't.
Although the incident temporarily drifted away from my mind, it sharply resurfaced a day or two later, as I was on the road with my Uncle David, driving to Ridgecrest through the dry, lifeless desert. He pointed out towards the distant mountains. He told me about Rain Shadows. "Now you see, those mountains aren't like down here in this area. They actually get rain. As the clouds come rollinging, from the North, they dump all of their water on the mountains. And by the time they've passed, they don't have anymore rain for this desert. So as the years go on, this spot gets drier and drier." The way he spoke of it made it seem as though the rain was missing the desert, but it was ignoring it, the rain shadows. Shadows. So hidden and uncared for.
I am a cloud. All built up with so much to offer. As I come in to a dry area, desperate for life and hope, I'd rather pay my attention to the obvious cries for help. I notice them instantly. So easy it is to help those who obviously struggle, and then ignore those we don't feel like noticing. Shadows.
People everywhere are just so, so broken. We choose not to notice. As though if we never realize they're there, we won't feel guilty for doing nothing to help them. As though if we ignore them, the blame won't lie on us. We'd all love to think of ourselves as giving, caring people. But yet we can barely even empathize for and consider the people we pass by everyday on the streets. We crumble. We just have to realize that all we need is the right Perspective to see through to the Shadows. Then it's obvious that sometimes reaching out isn't as far as we think.
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Give me Your eyes so I can see everything that I keep missing.
Give me Your love for humanity.
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted, the ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten.
Give me Your eyes so I can see."
("Give Me Your Eyes by Brandon Heath)