Approx. read time: 2:30 min.

A friend shares a phrase, which I hear differently from the way she presents it. Her phrase is, Love what’s right in front of you.

Well, the word right can mean so many things.

It can mean a direction, like when another friend says: Turn right at the corner. When I turn left she says, No, the other right.

“Right,” I say, now meaning: You are correct!

As a noun, right can mean a just or legal claim to authority or power or privilege. It can mean permission to do something, or be your rightful and fuller self.

Right, as it’s used in my friend’s phrase, means without distance or delay; immediately, exactly, precisely, like the little red location marker on your Google Maps app.

On a hike along the McKenzie River Trail I was captivated by this moss-enfolded tree stump. Immediately it became the object of my affection, an expression of Creation doing what Creation does, perpetuating its cycles of living, dying, and fostering new growth. I call it: Throne of the Forest Queen.

Now we come to the meaning I have in mind, where “right,” biblically, means just, or justice; what is lawful, or morally proper, in God’s sight.

Being a writer who is fascinated by punctuation, in my imagination I insert a comma, after the word right. 

Love what is right, in front of you! 

Love what—or whom—God loves!

Well, what—or whom—does God love?

 God loves what—and whom—is perfect. And also, imperfect, including the likes of you and me, who are still striving toward full moral stature.

So to love what’s right, in front of me, is to love what—and whom—is precisely and exactly here, within sight, within my sphere of acknowledgment, acceptance, and embrace, even if only interiorly, with heart, with the compassionate gaze.

Suddenly the phrase Love what is right, before you becomes an invitation to an exercise of discernment: Love what is right, and just, and good with divine goodness—not generally but specifically, here, exactly in this place and moment where you are, even if in a quiet and humble way.

Which means: I have to pay attention. Not be “here but mostly somewhere else,” but here, now, awake and present in body, mind, and spirit.

So, to discern means to cut away all that is extraneous, distracting, in order to see what God would have me see.

And of course, what God would have me see—would have you see—is the shimmering light of divine goodness, and divine compassion and potentiality, within the person, or circumstance, or element of Creation that is here now.

Love, I say, with all your heart what is right, and just, and worthy that is before you, surrounding you, beckoning you into your larger self, into the Land of the Rightside Up, into the reign of God.

So here’s the assignment: Love what’s right, in front of you today, in this hour, in your next task.

For inspiration, I recommend my collections of stories, Conformed to Christ, and Living as Jesus Taught. Read sample pages and purchase direct from my Store! When you do, you support my ministry directly!

Or, listen to stories on my albums Free to Be Free and Living as Jesus Taught, on my Spotify artist page.

Let me know what you are loving that’s right in front of you! Share a story, especially where judgment gave way to acknowledgment, acceptance, or embrace in one form or another.

Want to contribute to my work, especially in this long pandemic season? That would mean so much to me!