What do they call those ink-blot tests? Rorschach? Forgive the spelling, but you get the idea.
This week, I FB-posted a Fox News story about how former President Barack Obama visited some kids in a Washington, D.C. hospital.
Some of the kids will be there over Christmas. Some won’t see another Christmas.
Here’s what I saw: kids (and some of their family members) excited and happy to have a visitor (bearing toys). A visitor who’s famous, and a part of our history.
It broke up their day. Relieved the tedium. Made ’em feel good for a little while.
It’s the same when hockey players, or baseball sluggers, or Ironman stops by.
I looked at it and saw the kids. Most people did, too.
Some of you, and you know who you are, saw Obama—and who’s he think he is?! Photo-op! Who paid for the presents anyway?!
Hey, you know what? This is your Rorschach moment.
I have no idea why Barack Obama went there. Neither do you. But, as a guess, I’d imagine that when famous or popular people are able to visit sick kids, they probably get as much out of it as do the children. I’m no fan of his presidency, but he did a good thing here.
His reasons don’t matter to me. The kids matter.
If I may make a humble suggestion, it would be this: If you saw Obama only, you might need to check yourself.
You’re letting politics move into your heart, when it belongs in your head. And you’re letting it take up way too much space there.
Try seeing the kids.
A smile, a laugh, a celebrity selfie for these kids…is just something to be thankful for.
Merry Christmas to you and yours. God loves you and so do I.