The Gift of Approachability: A Spiritual Reflection

I sometimes wonder if life is really all about encounters. We are social beings, and deep down, we yearn for meaningful connection. Each of us carries gifts—not just material ones, but spiritual and emotional ones—that are meant to be shared. At the same time, we’re also in need of the gifts that others offer. These mutual exchanges, I believe, are part of God’s design for how we are to love one another.

Recently, I had an encounter with someone from whom I needed a small act of help. We’ve crossed paths many times, but we don’t know each other personally. As I approached him, his body language and hurried words made it clear—he wasn’t available. “I’m on my way to a meeting,” he said, brushing past. I knew he had many gifts to offer, but on that day, they were not available to me.

That moment left me reflecting on the gift of approachability. It's a quiet, unspoken grace that says to others: “I am here for you. I am willing to help, to listen.” It’s a gift rooted in humility, kindness, and empathy. It doesn’t come easily. I’ve spent my life trying to cultivate it.

As a physician, I rarely introduce myself by my profession. But often, people find out what I do, and they'll ask questions—about their health, their loved ones, their fears. I’m deeply humbled by these moments. I see them as grace-filled opportunities to offer consolation and guidance, to serve with the gifts God has entrusted to me. It is only by His grace that I have been given this knowledge, and so, as Jesus taught us, I strive to give freely as I have freely received (cf. Matthew 10:8).

Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). I used to think He meant martyrdom—dying in a literal sense. But now I see it more deeply: He invites us to give our lives—our time, presence, energy—as a daily offering of love. To be approachable is to lay down our schedule, our pride, even our fatigue, for the sake of another.

And yet, one of the devil’s cleverest tactics is to keep us busy. If we're always rushing, always distracted, we become unavailable in the very moments when love is needed most. Maybe that’s why the encounter I described earlier left such a mark on me. It wasn’t about rejection—it was about a missed opportunity to be Christ to one another.

Think of the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). The priest and the Levite—good, respectable people—passed by a man in desperate need. Perhaps they were too busy, or too focused on their religious duties. But the Samaritan, moved by compassion, stopped. He didn’t schedule mercy; he embodied it.

Or consider Bartimaeus, the blind man sitting by the road in Jericho. When he cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” many tried to silence him—but Jesus stopped. “What do you want me to do for you?” He asked (Mark 10:46–52). That question, that pause, that presence—that is divine approachability.

We may not have the power to heal the blind, but we all have the power to stop and listen. Sometimes, simply being present is enough to heal a crushed spirit. We don’t always see the impact of our actions, but every small act of kindness has the potential to shift the course of someone’s life.

Parents understand this deeply. Children interrupt, demand, cry out—and love requires a patience that stretches us. But the way we respond in those moments is a testimony to others—and to God. We should not forget that God watches how His children treat each other.

Approachability is a gift, but it’s also a choice and a discipline. It is, in essence, the daily work of imitating Jesus. Scripture is filled with stories of people approaching Him: the woman who touched His cloak (Mark 5:25–34), the centurion who pleaded for his servant (Matthew 8:5–13), the children whom the disciples tried to turn away but whom Jesus welcomed with open arms (Mark 10:13–16).

He never turned them away.

We are called to that same openness. The gift of approachability is not about being perfect or always available—but about cultivating a heart that is ready to love. It’s about slowing down just enough to recognize when someone is in need, and to respond with the same words Jesus gave us: “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34).