Somebody to Someone

“One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody.” –Mother Theresa

I was thinking about this quote this morning after some events that made me feel, for a brief moment in time, like nobody to anybody. Which is interesting, because I fully believe that only I give the power to people to let them make me feel that way.

But still, how many people are on this earth who feel like they’ve never been truly seen? Truly loved? Truly been somebody to someone?

More than we know.

Maybe me.

Maybe you.

Interpersonal dynamics are so fascinating to me. How much do we watch out for our friends, our brothers and sisters, to make sure they don’t feel like nobodies? Most of us don’t really do this well. And sometimes, even in the closest of friend circles, people can feel left out and left behind. Whether it’s in the way we sit, closing them off to the rest of the conversation. Or whether it’s how we respond when they’re talking – we can either make them feel like their contribution is valuable, or like they’re an alien from another planet. Or when they have different views from our own: we can either make them feel inferior or dumb or wrong, or we can respectfully discuss and validate them as human beings who can think their own thoughts and make their own decisions.

This Wednesday night our youth group served dinner over at the Stockbridge Boiler Room. I saw a woman who I’d met the week before – I don’t know if she’s homeless but she’s definitely, by worldly standards, poor. When I saw her, I saw a glint of recognition in her eyes: she remembered me too. I had a choice in that moment: politely say hello and keep my safe distance, or embrace her as my sister in Christ. To know that she is a very important somebody to God, and that she deserves to feel seen and heard.

It wasn’t easy. I shouted her name and gave her a big hug, and then stood there talking with her, our arms resting casually about each other’s shoulders. She reaked of alcohol, and I was grateful in that moment for my lack of sense of smell. But still, the smell was overwhelming. But I held on, because Mother Theresa has said, and I’ve seen it with my own eyes, that touch is one of the best forms of love. No one feels more lovely than when they are touched – no one feel more repulsive than when people don’t or won’t touch them.

I didn’t do much. I simply had a great conversation with a woman who is not normally in my ‘circle’. Someone I wouldn’t have met on my own. I’m not a hero, really. But for this woman, for one moment in time, she was somebody to someone. She was embraced and loved.

I challenge each of us to consider this, and to live our lives seeking ways to make people feel like somebodies to us.