On good days, when I am sensitive to His Spirit, I remember that they are flesh. I see them as he sees them, a little soul in need of a Savior. I use the moment as a picture, illustrating again their ultimate longing. Freedom from self. Freedom to love.
On not-so-good days I react in my own flesh, reminded again of my desperation. Thankful for his persistent grace.
The gospel. A holy God bending down and redeeming mankind out of his extravagant love. Innocent blood shed for my rebellious soul. And for theirs. Undeserved. Beyond comprehension.
Seeing others through the gospel changes me. It softens me. It frees me to love.
Bringing it home...
How does looking at others through the lens of the gospel change you?