Imagine standing in the crowd that day—heat pressing in, people jostling around you, your toddlers tugging at your legs. You’re not there for a conversation or because you think you have anything impressive to offer. You’re just hoping Jesus might lay His hands on your children and bless them. But just as you approach, a disciple stops you cold and tells you to leave. In that moment it becomes painfully clear: you’re not being turned away because you’ve done something wrong, but because you and your children have nothing to offer. Empty hands. Before we judge the disciples too quickly, we should admit how familiar this feels. We often live as though access to Jesus must be earned, as if usefulness or spiritual polish is the price of admission. And that way of thinking spills over into how we treat others—quietly avoiding people who seem like inte ...