Cripples

This morning's bus ride was unusually long. It seemed the driver stopped at every block along 125th street to let a wheelchair passenger on or off. As I look around my communities of Harlem and the South Bronx, it occurs to me that there are inordinate numbers of people in wheelchairs, scooters, and other mobility assistance devices.

In a conversation yesterday, we talked about this, and about how many of the people are just lazy -- I saw a woman get off the bus in her wheelchair, then get out of the wheelchair, light up her cigarette, and proceed to push the wheelchair down the street. I'm not in her chair, and shouldn't judge her mobility. I guess I resent having to make special concessions for someone's health condition when they show by their smoking that they don't care about their health conditions.

But aren't we all crippled in some way? If we look at one another, we can always see imperfections, perhaps insurmountable ones. And if we're looking to God or assuming that God is looking at us, God must be wringing God's hands at God's children -- some of who have not learned any better, some who know but do not do any better, all of whom appear crippled in spirit to the Loving God who made us.

And yet God allows us to live. Maybe I should let the cripples live in peace,. too. Maybe it doesn't matter if they're crippled in body, mind, or spirit -- maybe the point is that, no matter how crippled they may seem to me, I seem infinitely more crippled to God, who still blesses me. Daily. Maybe there's a lesson in there.....