onions, iron, & grace

He shuffled into the gym with a camera around his neck.

And, honest, when he showed me his pictures, my breath caught. And it wasn’t because of the trains or white barns or his 86 year old cousin (who, by the way, looked closer to 68).

It was because this man with wrinkles covering his face and white hair that hardly began to cover his head was so alive, and I was jealous … and blessed.

Jealous to see life through his eyes.

And so blessed to have my life intersect with his.


FYI, people are like onions.

And that’s why we can never judge a person as if we know the whole story. Because there’s always another layer underneath.

And sometimes witnessing the peeling away at what makes up their lives – what makes up them – evokes a few tears.

tears of sorrow at the pain.

tears of joy at the grace.


Yeah, iron sharpens iron,

but it also cuts deep and forms chains.

So please use some tact, wisdom, and love.


 Sometimes the most sharpening thing we can do – the most loving {other benefiting} thing we can do – is to listen as they tell us about their pictures of trains and white barns and  an 86 year old cousin.

because people are like onions.

And if we listen well we might hear a few peels fall to the ground. sometimes a few tears too

… because of the grace.

And maybe most of all, the grace of having our life intersect with theirs.


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