Untouchable Host

Who is my brother? Who is my sister? Well...

The real question besets us in this: Who isn't my brother? Who isn't my sister? I could say easily that there are those who I have no influence over, and they are not my brother and sister. But aren't they? I know that they are. I know that the idea of them not being my brother and sister is to separate myself from the collective of mankind. And as this is not the case, they are mine. In every decision that I make, somehow, somewhere, men that I have never heard, seen or imagined are affected by the small decisions of my day. Is it too big headed of me to think so? I think not. I make nets and they reach out... spanning invisible barriers and touching this "untouchable host". They are touched by me in my web of influence, whether I like it or not. Is it as real to me as this sweaty tent I am sitting in right now in the unbearable humidity, being eaten alive by grimy gnats, as it is to me when I am crusin down my favorite stretch of interstate in my convertible with wind whistling through my hair. Is it? Can it be that real to me every second of every day? No. of course not. It can never be that real. No one but God is that omniscient. Perhaps if I cared more, I could sense and feel these other invisibles and be able to make the right choices and help progress their journey towards God. Perhaps if I cared more... they could become a reality in my every day life. Perhaps. Perhaps they are my brothers and my sisters and my mothers and fathers. I say they are. For they are the untouchable host, and I pray that they will become as real to me one day as these gnats are now... I pray that they would become real. And touchable.

Copyright 2003 by pauly hart

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