I had a bad day. But really in retrospect it was a stressful half hour that had me pining for better times.
Afterwards I realize that those 30 minutes were a real opportunity for love. A chance to sit and recognize Jesus in the distress and disguise of the poor. Not my words, but those of Mother Theresa. A gift. Thank you.
But this all begs the question: Who are the poor? Are they the elderly, the homeless, the recognized rich, or the fighting far from home soldier? What about the mother, the student, the hurting or injured?