Our ears catch the sounds of the city—sometimes gentle, sometimes piercing.
Our eyes witness stories unfolding all around us.
Our hearts absorb moments of beauty and pain.
Our minds, so quick to react, try to sort through it all.
We see, we hear, we respond.
But what is it that truly matters?
I want my words to carry kindness.
I want my heart to be a place of compassion.
I remind myself to care for both, to tend the garden inside me.
These lyrics by Josiah Queen echo in my thoughts:
“I saw an accident this morning on the interstate
And the first thing on my mind was ‘running late’
I didn’t stop and pray that they were safe, I never thought about it after
When did I start missing the things that matter?”
It makes me pause: What am I feeding my soul?
Is it shallow love, or is it impatience and frustration?
Do I reach for hope, or do I let myself drift into despair?
I long to share love and hope—but first, I need to know them deeply within myself.
Yesterday in Ikebukuro, I arrived at church and saw a homeless man. He had unrolled his futon right at our entryway. As the evening deepened, he stayed there, talking loudly to himself—his voice rising and falling, sometimes angry, sometimes soft—until midnight.
It was as if the whole city faded, and only his voice and presence filled that space.
This morning, when I got up, I saw he had quietly gathered his belongings and disappeared.
His absence felt as real as his presence had the night before.
I am learning not to be surprised by the unexpected.
I am learning that people’s lives—how they act, where they sleep, the battles they fight inside—span a vast, unseen spectrum.
I don’t know yet how to help the man who sleeps at our church door, his mind restless, his voice echoing in the night.
But I am in awe of the mystery of how people live, and how God sees us all—our strengths, our weaknesses, our struggles.
I am learning to play my small part in this mosaic of lives—some silent, some loud, all watched over by God.
And I remember Jesus’ words:
“Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”
—Matthew 6:26 (NRSV)
Today, I want to pay attention to what truly matters—
To see each life as precious, to offer hope, and to trust that God’s love covers every story, even the ones I cannot yet understand.