A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions.

Frederick William Faber

My wife Terry recently spent a week at a conference and retreat center near Baltimore, Maryland.  She gathered with colleagues who also serve presbyteries throughout the country.  Honestly, I really hoped she bring home a fresh Maryland crab cake but, equally honestly, I knew that was not too realistic.  What she did bring me was a decorative magnet that included the quotation, “A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions.”  I surely would have enjoyed a crab cake—I cannot deny that!  But this quote really struck me and will definitely stick with me longer than even the best crab cake!

A single act. That is all. Sometimes we succumb to the notion that we must do a lot or do something big and bold or do something everyone will consider the best.  But when it comes to kindness a simple act is not only enough but can impact others exponentially.

A single act can be easy and then again it can be hard.  Sometimes it is easy when it comes naturally for us or it is directed to someone we love.  Sometimes it is hard when it requires more from us—more time, more energy, more sacrifice.  Regardless, the impact of kindness can be so profound.  Sometimes even though it is easy for us it comes to someone at just the right moment—when they feel overlooked or overwhelmed.  Our single, easy act of kindness really makes a noticeable difference in their lives.  Another time, when it is hard for us, it can equally change someone else’s life for the better possibly in a way we never know.

Throws out roots in all direction.  I like the idea of kindness taking root in a person’s life or in a family or a community or a congregation.  Acts of kindness are not fleeting.  They last—likely beyond what we witness initially.  The compassion experienced in kindness becomes rooted in the recipient’s life and becomes an ongoing source of strength.  It also then fuels their ability to act in kindness toward others.  Acts of kindness multiply themselves touching and transforming more and more lives.  That is how kindness spreads in all directions.  We act in kindness a single time but the kindness moves well beyond that person, that place, that point in time.  It keeps going and going and going—to people and places we can never know.  Kindness takes on a life of its own.

If you ever garden near a tree you learn quickly how expansive its root system is.  Countless times when attempting to plant a new perennial flower in our yard I have ended up working around tree roots unexpectedly.  I cannot really fathom the expansiveness of a root system of a single tree.  The same is true of kindness—it may appear singular on the surface but much more is happening than I can perceive.

I invite you this week to recall an act of kindness directed to you.  How did you feel?  How did it impact you?  How did it affect others in your life?  And too, consider how you can act in kindness toward someone else and be mindful of the impact of your kindness beyond that one singular act.

We are all recipients of the good, compassionate kindness of God.  May that be the source of our acts of kindness that take root in the lives of others.

The heavens are telling the glory of God;
and the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork.
Psalm 19:1

On the last Monday night in September the planet Jupiter moved within its closet position to the earth in fifty-nine years at 367 million miles from Earth. It is hard for me to consider 367 million miles as close. Yet, as Ian and I gazed at the eastern sky on Monday night we were both amazed and delighted by Jupiter’s brightness. We tried to draw it in closer with our binoculars but they were no match for such a distance. Yet despite that we still found it special to see Jupiter in all of its splendid light.

I find it important to look upward. Too often my eyes are focused straight ahead as I am determined to get from one point to another. When I do pause and look up—whether it is the deep blue sky and brilliant sunlight of day or the expansiveness of a starlite night—I find myself reminded as did the psalmist that the heavens are telling the glory of God and proclaiming God as Creator. It is simply my task to notice—to see what nature is saying. When I do take the time I receive not only a reminder but a wonderful remembrance of the goodness of our kind Creator.

As we all learned from our earliest days in school, Jupiter is the biggest of all the planets. Consider that 1,300 Earths would fit inside Jupiter. THAT IS BIG! Yet it appears at 367 million miles away as quite small—a single point of light. Yet consider though the wonder of how that light travels that far—far enough for us to see it and distinguish it from other planets and stars. And consider just how bright it is—bright enough for us to notice it.

People, like me and you, find ourselves in times of darkness from time to time. We need light, even the simplest and smallest point of light, to give us hope. We need light to remind us that we are not alone; that there is a Creator who made us and a Creator who cares for us.

Sometimes that light might literally be a light that we view in the night sky. Maybe looking at Jupiter can remind us that we are not alone; that the God who made this universe is with us in ways both known and unknown, both seen and unseen. Other times that light comes from other sources—the glimmer in another’s eyes, the smile on someone’s face, the familiar voice on the phone, the arrival of loved one. However might the light arrive we are filled with the same sense of hope—hope that we can live the fullest of life as intended by the God who made us and loves us.

So, look up and look around. Take in the light. Take in the hope. Then let it shine through you into another’s darkness.

Late on a recent Saturday night Terry and I sat in “Blue,” our 1976 Chevy pickup truck, wondering why it wouldn’t run. It had run—earlier in the day and only moments before. But now nothing. Just endless turning over but no firing of the engine. The truck sat in our front yard under a tree. We parked it there earlier so Jadon and his friends could line up their cars and take pictures before heading out to the Homecoming dance at the high school. They had of course all pilled in the truck and on the truck. Yet why it would not start perplexed us. But it would have to wait until the next day.

After lunch on Sunday I called our friend Paul who knows his way around old car and truck engines. He came over to take a look. He quickly determined that there was no issue with the cranking but there seemed to be no fuel reaching the engine. He sprayed some starter fluid into the carburetor as I turned the ignition switch. She fired but still would not run. Thus we knew getting fuel to the engine had to be the problem. As I sat in the cab it suddenly dawned on me. The truck has two, yes, two, gas tanks and a switch that sends the fuel to the engine from one or the other. I quickly looked at the switch; and, yes, it was switched to the empty tank! A quick switch to the other; a turn of the key; a few pumps on the peddle and it was running just fine again!

We then deduced that while the boys were in and out of the truck one of them had out of curiosity or unknowingly hit the gas tank switch. Once it was switched to the empty tank no amount of anything would have got the truck running. It had to be switched to the tank that had the fuel.

No fuel. No go. Isn’t that how it is! We can try our hardest. We can wish and want to. But without the gas to go we won’t get anywhere! How often have I tried and tried to get going and simply could not. My tank was empty. My tank was empty. Maybe like “Blue” we all have two tanks—one that is our own which we try to fuel our lives with our own efforts and strength. The other tank is not our own but holds the strength and abilities given to us by God. We like to be self-reliant; so we use and use and then exhaust every ounce of our own strength. Then we wonder why we can’t go anywhere. Maybe it is then that it dawns on us that we must switch to the true source of our strength, our Creator God. And that source is one that will not run out! There is always an abundant supply when we rely on God.

Tired? Exhausted? Out of gas? Realize you cannot rely solely on yourself alone. If you do, you will not make it. Instead, switch tanks! Go with the supply of strength that God can provide. And remember, it’s okay to sit in the yard over night in order to figure this out. A good night’s rest is always helpful too!