all of me?

A few days ago I saw a former minister of mine for the first time since college. I was looking forward to it. I thought it would be fun to share stories, even briefly.

So when I saw him, I asked him what he was doing, how he liked it. He told me about his kids, his town, his job. And then he asked me..."How many kids do you have?" "What does your husband do?" "What kind of minister is he?" "What kind of Baptist is he?"

And that was it. He moved on to the next person.

Kids.
My husband's job.

He never asked about me. Though he later grilled my husband about his job, he still never asked about me. It kinda stung.

I love my kids, and I love my husband. They are, without a doubt, the greatest gifts in my life. But they are not me. They contribute to the whole of me, but they are not all of me.

Now, it doesn't really matter that I didn't get to share much of myself with someone I haven't seen in 15 years and will probably never see again. It does matter, though, that I try to see all of the person in front of me, whoever that may be. It does matter that I ask, that I listen, that I see. It matters that I put the computer down, close the book, step away from the busy-ness, step over the fear.

This is a good reminder for me in these busy days of almost-but-not-yet, when it's too easy for me to bury my head. The people in front of me matter, more than my own schedule or frustration or timidity.

I matter, and so do you.