By: Darrelyn L. Tutt

I grabbed hold of my elderly friend's hand and urged him for a walk;
 together we ambled down the block and I knew that I loved him.
I redirected his empty, downward gaze to a positive, upward gaze and his entire mood shifted.
Charlie's eyes followed my finger and together we admired two red breasted robins on the roof. Spring took hold of my friend in just a moment and all was changed because of the eye shift.
And I thought to myself ...
Looking up is a gift we give to one another.
A simple shift in outlook has the ability to transfer the soul to new places and give it hope.
The robins were happy to see us and sang cheerfully throughout our "block walk".
There's a tremor in my friend's hand and a rasp in each breath he takes;
there's a bit of wobbly gait to consider and a gentleness that overcomes me in response.
Like a mother with a child, my heart experiences pangs of compassion for my fragile and vulnerable friends.
I can't explain this tender empathy tucked into my heart for:
the discarded, little-regarded, and unregarded.
 I can't explain why my soul feels so at home and less alone when I'm with this company.
I just know that I feel the closeness of God when I'm with these folks.
It's not about stage, age, or season ...
it's about transparency, vulnerability, and "loveability".
While I feel truly blessed with a host of positive and multi-colored personalities and friends, none have the power to "do" in me what this host of company does for me.
I'm at my best when I'm with an audience of God's weakest.
I love at my finest when nobody's watching.
An "eye shift" happens in my soul and in these vulnerable "block walks" I hear the robins sing and I see Jesus.
Where do the robins sing for you?