They're respectable looking people, and after striking up a lively dialouge, you are inequivocaly kind, aren't you? They accidentally step on your toes, you smile, hold back a squeal, and say "Oh, it's all right." They drop something, you try to pick it up first. They ask for a pen, you run around the church looking for one if you don't have one on you.
Somehow, we are all-too-kind to people we barely know. At least I know I am.
To people we have just met, we desire to appear as proper Christians. Our politeness is unmatched, our jokes hilarious, our smile unceasing. All because we hope to shed Christ's love into their lives. A very noble, Biblical ambition.
Now let us move into the home. Our house. Your younger brother steps on your toes, you shriek, smack him on the head, and complain for the next ten minutes straight. Your Dad drops his glasses, you stand and watch him pick them up, not even thinking of doing it for him. Your mom asks if anyone has seen her keys and goes running around the house while you sit and continue reading your book as if nothing had happened.
So my question is, why are we kindest to those we love least?
I love my mother, father, and brothers more than any other people in the world. Hands down. That's just how it is. Yet, I am at times crueler to them than I am to any other people in the world.
Why isn't my desire to shed Christ's love into other people's lives most eager in the arena of my home? It is so easy to brush off family as people who don't need our kindness, help, and politeness.
However, I begin to feel that we should be most polite to our parents and most helpful to our siblings.
I am not saying we shouldn't be considerate to strangers, because we should be a good witness to other Christians and non-believers. However, I think we should be kindest to those we love most. We should aspire to be the best witnesses we can to our own family members.