The Hearts We Never See
"Dare to reach out your hand into the darkness, to pull another hand into the light." — Norman B. Rice
About ten years ago, our extended family rented a condo on the beach for a summer vacation.
One morning I carried a blueberry muffin and a cup of mocha coffee onto the deck, looking forward to a quiet start to the day. The rhythmic sound of the waves had a way of slowing everything down.
As I settled into my chair, the woman staying in the condo next to ours hurried back from her morning walk. She looked like a child who had just discovered buried treasure.
"Did you hear what happened last night?" she asked.
Before I could answer, she pointed toward a section of beach that had been roped off with bright markers.
A sea turtle had crawled ashore during the night and buried her eggs in the sand.
The problem was she had chosen a spot directly between two beach chairs.
Thankfully, a local sea turtle preservation team had found the nest before the beach filled with vacationers. They carefully relocated the eggs to a safer location nearby, roped off the area, and protected them until they were ready to hatch.
The woman explained that volunteers walked the beach every night looking for fresh nests because mother turtles don't know—or care—whether they've laid their eggs in a safe place.
Without someone watching, those tiny eggs could easily be crushed beneath unsuspecting feet.
That image has stayed with me ever since.
The Hearts We Walk Past
People are often a lot like those turtle eggs.
Fragile.
Hidden.
Easy to overlook.
Every day we pass people carrying burdens we know nothing about.
The woman smiling in the grocery store may have just received devastating medical news.
The teenager scrolling through their phone may desperately wonder if anyone notices them.
The couple sitting a few rows ahead of you in church may be quietly watching their marriage fall apart.
The coworker who seems distracted may be carrying grief they haven't found words to express.
We see people.
God sees hearts.
Jesus Never Walked Past the Broken
One of the things I love most about Jesus is that He never overlooked people everyone else ignored.
He noticed the Samaritan woman drawing water alone.
He defended the woman caught in adultery when everyone else wanted to condemn her.
He stopped for the woman who quietly reached out to touch the hem of His garment.
He saw people others walked past.
Not because their pain was obvious.
Because His compassion was.
Jesus understood that wounded hearts are fragile.
And He always moved toward them with grace.
Seeing What Others Miss
Sometimes I wonder how many hurting people I unintentionally walk past because I'm too consumed with my own schedule.
Too distracted.
Too hurried.
Too focused on my next appointment.
Busyness has a way of making us blind.
Yet the people around us don't need another hurried conversation.
They need someone willing to truly see them.
Someone willing to notice the tears hiding behind the smile.
Someone willing to ask, "How are you...really?"
Becoming a Safe Place
Those volunteers didn't ignore the turtle eggs.
They protected them.
They created a safe place where new life could flourish.
What if the Church became known for doing the same?
What if we asked God each morning to help us notice the fragile hearts around us?
What if we slowed down long enough to encourage someone, pray with them, listen without rushing, or simply remind them they are not alone?
We cannot heal every hurt.
But we can help create places where healing has room to begin.