Who’s watching you, or better yet, who is listening to you? Recently I was at the hair salon (in Grand Junction they are known as “Day Spas”). I guess it makes them sound more glamorous even if you are just getting your toes painted.
While watching the nail technician carefully apply a coat of red paint to my little toes I overhead the stylist next to me talking to her client. Now, I was not trying to be nosy, it’s just that the client had her head in the shampoo bowl and she was practically shouting (note to self…never talk while you are under the water hose at the “Day Spa”).
The stylist and the client were both very hip moms in their late twenties and apparently they had attended their daughters’ dance recital at the school the night before.
“My daughter was so upset when she came home last night.” Said the client. “The little boy that she had to dance with was terrible and it was humiliating for her!”
“Yea, I saw them.” said the stylist. “What did you say to her?”
“I told her, he was terrible and that nobody thought it was her fault. Nobody would have wanted to dance with him. He was an embarrassment and she was wonderful."
After the towel was put on her head and she was lifted out of the sink she turned to the stylist to say, “I want my daughter to have a good self esteem; I was not going to let her take any of the blame.”
You have no idea how much I wanted to jump out of my chair and get into a girl fight right there in the “Day Spa.” I could envision grabbing this woman up by the collar and saying, “Look Sparky, your daughter’s self confidence is not going to come by you being mean and putting down eight year-olds.” I was fearless and had all the words ready to go and then reality set in… how tough could I really be with purple separators between my toes?
While my flesh was fuming at the cruelty of these two moms, my spirit ached for this little boy that I didn’t even know. I’m thinking this little boy is created in the image and likeness of God. He has a mom that would be devastated to overhear this conversation. He’s one of God’s creations! So what if he can’t dance? Dancing doesn’t make him a great person or a bad one and it’s certainly not a good reason to be so negative towards him. How mean can woman be? Tears started welling up in my eyes as the enormity of my own sins surfaced. How many times had I said something bad about someone (God’s creation) in conversation? Or been critical? Judgmental? How hurt was God when I talked about His children?
I found myself in deep thought and no longer wanted to abuse these two young moms but desired to love them. I wanted to call everyone that I’ve ever hurt with mean words and say I’m sorry. But most of all I wanted to repent and ask for forgiveness.
The buzzer sounded and my toes were dry, the moms were long gone, but the fruit of their words were dripping with disaster.
Who is watching you? Who is listening to you? What kind of impact are you making on those around you?
“Death and Life are in the power of your tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit” (Proverb 18:21).
I’d love to hear your stories about being watched or watching others.
