This past Saturday I witnessed flashes of others’ lives. Almost photographic glimpses of the stories they are living. Riding on the Metra, I looked out my window and saw a precarious scene. There was a car, appearing like it had just stopped in the middle of a suburban road, with two dogs standing in front of it. The driver seemed to be staring at the dogs and the dogs stared back. Then the image shifted and the Metra kept moving forward. I saw beautiful buildings and buildings that were falling apart, which held its own beauty. I saw a snowy landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. Looking in the compartment I saw a young couple happily oblivious to anything but each other. When I got into Chicago I witnessed more flashes of other lives. On the side of a building, I saw faded brick where an advertisement of long ago used to reside. I walked by two post office workers arguing with each other. At a food place, I witnessed an elderly couple sitting side by side, on their smart phones. At night, I saw a man get down on one knee and propose to his girlfriend, and when she said yes, they started dancing to their own melody. I saw life and pain and laughter and sadness. On that day, I witnessed a beautiful depiction of all different walks of life. I caught glimpses of others souls, the moments that may or may not define their life. I am grateful to have been a witness of these events, but at the same time, these events only make me wonder. What those people’s life stories are. What they have a passion, a desire for. What has happened in their past, that brought them be in those moments of that day. My pastor always said every single person who walked through the church doors have a story. I have kept that lesson in my heart. Some stories we will never hear, some stories do not have a happy ending. Is there someone in your life that you don’t know their story? If so, I challenge you to change that.


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