What Even is “Poor in Spirit?” | Matthew 5:3
September 16, 2023
What does “Blessed are the poor in spirit” really mean?
How many things do you think you are as good as a professional? Kind of like being a Monday morning quarterback. Currently I am coaching a child on how to stretch his hip. I am sure I know exactly what I am talking about. I mean I have very good body awareness. I am sure I would have done well in physical therapy school.
I would have been an excellent nurse too. My Popa had so many things going on medically when I was growing up. I spent a lot of time in hospital waiting rooms. He was a diabetic and he had terrible tremors so in the last year of his life his nightly insulin shots were tricky. I was very good at administering the shots, “1…2…3…big stick” as I jabbed it in. Mama said I looked like I was stabbing him, but Popa assured her that one swift motion was better than a hesitant, soft approach. Not sure I could do bed pans though. Or vomit that is not my child’s. Especially from a random adult. You know what I mean?
I already am an amazing counselor. Things would go so much smoother if everyone would just do what I say. I give really good advice. I wonder if I would get tired of hearing about problems all day? Would I get too invested of the lives of my patients? Cry when they cry? Laugh inappropriately? Would I cross the professional line and text them to get the tea about what Aunt So and So said to Uncle What’s His Name? Probably.
Interior Design is so fun. I have great taste. Everyone says so. My art collection is enviable. But, I guess not all people have the same taste as I do. They probably would want me to give them options. That would take forever. Do you know how many fabrics are in existence? I mean every single one comes in multiple color ways. And paint colors! Oh, the many shades of white. Don’t forget about wallpaper. All these choices mean time to decide. I know what I like and pick things quickly. When I love something, I stop looking. It avoids so much confusion that way. Mama on the other hand wants to see all the options. Over and over again, sometimes choosing a new favorite each time. I can’t do that. My patience is not that great.
I already am an amazing counselor. Things would go so much smoother if everyone would just do what I say. I give really good advice. I wonder if I would get tired of hearing about problems all day? Would I get too invested of the lives of my patients? Cry when they cry? Laugh inappropriately? Would I cross the professional line and text them to get the tea about what Aunt So and So said to Uncle What’s His Name? Probably.
Interior Design is so fun. I have great taste. Everyone says so. My art collection is enviable. But, I guess not all people have the same taste as I do. They probably would want me to give them options. That would take forever. Do you know how many fabrics are in existence? I mean every single one comes in multiple color ways. And paint colors! Oh, the many shades of white. Don’t forget about wallpaper. All these choices mean time to decide. I know what I like and pick things quickly. When I love something, I stop looking. It avoids so much confusion that way. Mama on the other hand wants to see all the options. Over and over again, sometimes choosing a new favorite each time. I can’t do that. My patience is not that great.
I am an excellent cook. My boys fight over my banana nut muffins. Chicken and rice casserole is their comfort food. Thanksgiving without my cranberry salad is depressing even though my roast turkey is always golden brown and juicy. I can’t imagine having to cook multiple meals at a time though. No wonder in all those cooking shows the chef is angry.
My one true talent is cleaning up the kitchen. I am really good at loading a dishwasher. The puzzle of a cabinet is my forte. Cast iron? Please. Mine are seasoned perfectly. All that is just for the Trotters, though. It’s the unsung gift to my family. I’m not a professional at that. I’m sure I could fix Congress though.
