When I hear the word “witness” I immediately think of two things – one is being witness to a crime, and the other to stand up in church and declare the difference God has made in your life. But when I apply it to myself, I realize I am a witness every day of my life.
I witness the relationships and actions among my three dogs. How Parker will try to get everyone else’s food, how Tallulah seems to be slowing down, and how happy Lady is to have a home. It’s a privilege to be a witness to the creatures I share my home with.
I get to witness the small acts of kindness between humans – happening much more than the news would have me believe. The way people always smile and say “Hi” to each other. The way that people hold the door for each other and how they rush to help each other. In other places I’ve lived, no one noticed, but here in my little corner of the South I see it every day. I get to witness how the woman that does my nails, goes weekly to the assisted living facility to do the nails of the residents there. She doesn’t have to do this, but she does it from the love in her heart. And I get to witness my art teacher, taking on the challenge of teaching art to children and adults who have physical and mental handicaps. I get to witness these women and perhaps, because of their example become a better person myself.
And I get to witness the bad. The harsh name calling between former friends because they are of different political beliefs. The terrible things that people say to one another while hiding behind the anonymity of the internet. I am witness to the world on the evening news, that makes it a point to bring destruction and death into my home every evening.
The witnessing I do will not change the world, but it will change me.