But, no, here was proof that I was wrong. I watched as a horse ran uphill through the snow to meet what appeared to be the abominable snow person.
I couldn’t help but notice how much trouble the woman was going to for this particular animal. On the snow covered hill sat two coolers and the master was approaching with a third. I’m guessing it must have been food by the way the horse reacted to her presence.
Laboring not to slow to a walk, I mused. “Why on earth would anyone be out here feeding an animal right now?” I thought.
When the animal came near, the flannel coat, boot, glove, hat wearing servant sat down the cooler and hugged the horse’s neck. Although I couldn’t hear, I could see the woman speaking to the horse as she greeted it.
“Love.” I thought. It’s the love that woman has for the horse that brings her out on top of a snow covered hill with a heavy load and a happy heart.
Later that same day I became a witness once again.
As I sat at a stoplight, the man two cars in front of me backed into the car directly in front of me. Raising her hands in anger, she got out and stood outside his car waiting to exchange information. He and all of his overgrown buddies looked straight on, never even acknowledging her presence or the fact that he had just hit a stopped car.
She waited. He never so much as looked at her. The light turned green and off he went.
I felt so bad for the poor little old lady. What kind of person would I be if I did nothing about what I just saw? I called and reported the accident and his license plate number.
I bring up these two examples to illustrate what it means to be a witness.
Firstly, I serve a God who has instructed me to feed those he loves. I am a witness. Even if it’s cold, dark, and steep, my love for the helpless must be very apparent to a world who simply cannot understand why I labor so. My love for the helpless must overwhelmingly overshadow any awkward discomfort or personal difficulty for their sake as well as God’s glory.
Secondly, I serve a God who has commanded me to report the truth I’ve seen play out plainly in front of me. I am a witness. Because I know the truth, I must report it in order to bolster the credibility of those who make the same claim. Even when there is no personal advantage or reward, my love for justice must overwhelmingly overshadow any hesitation to get involved with those I do not know for the sake of the oppressed as well as God’s glory.
I guess it all really just comes down to love. In God’s book, love and witness are married. Let’s not allow man to separate the two.
Christian people, do you love the human race enough to go where it is cold; where it is dark; where it is steep to feed them the truth of God? Because love does not insist on its own way.
Christian people, do you love justice enough to get involved and make a report when there is no personal advantage? Witnesses only help the cause when they come forward and state their case clearly and honestly. Love rejoices with the truth.
Tomorrow is the day wherein the world celebrates all their misguided and maligned ideas of love. What kind of witness will you be?