What That Room Taught Me About What Really Matters

About a year ago I was sitting at a local community foundation for a networking event for nonprofits. It was one of those gatherings where you walk in not really knowing what to expect, but you hope something meaningful comes out of it.

They broke us into four groups of about twenty people each, completely random. No sorting by cause or philosophy. Just a mix of people from all kinds of organizations.

As we went around the circle introducing ourselves, something really beautiful started to emerge. People were serving the homeless. Others were working with foster children and families. There were adoption agencies, parenting support organizations, literacy programs, groups helping families in economic hardship, language education, and more. It was a wide and diverse collection of missions, both religious and secular.

That part stood out to me in a powerful way. Some organizations were faith based, others were not. People came from very different worldviews, belief systems, and backgrounds. And yet in that room, none of that became a barrier. It was actually encouraging to see how open people were to working alongside one another when the shared goal was simply helping people who needed help.

There was no debate about theology or politics. No tension in the room. Just a shared recognition that human need is real and worth responding to.

What struck me almost immediately was how little those differences mattered in that moment. Nobody was trying to win an argument. Nobody was separating into camps. People were simply sharing how they were trying to serve others.

It felt, in a very real way, like a glimpse of what unity can look like when people are focused on serving instead of separating.

But then something happened that I have not forgotten.

There was a woman sitting next to me who, as each person shared, seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. Eventually she called over one of the event moderators. Since she was right beside me, I could hear her conversation.

She explained that while everyone in the group seemed focused on helping people, she was there to support saving birds. She then went on to say she believed there were too many people in the world and that overpopulation was a concern. She asked if there was another group she could be placed with that shared her beliefs.

I remember just sitting there quietly, trying to process what I had heard.

At first I was shocked. Then I felt a bit of frustration. And eventually, what settled in was sadness.

It sounded like she valued animals more than human beings.

And to be honest, it sounded that way because of what she actually said.

Now I want to be careful here. Animals matter. Scripture tells us that God created the animals, called His creation good, and entrusted humanity with the responsibility to care for and steward the earth. There is real goodness in protecting wildlife and honoring the created order.

But the Bible is also very clear about something else.

Human beings are uniquely made in the image of God.

Genesis tells us that people are not just another part of creation. We are image bearers. We carry a dignity, worth, and value that nothing else in the created world carries in the same way. Jesus Himself affirmed the value of people repeatedly, teaching that every life matters deeply to God.

That is why that moment in the room stayed with me.

Because when we lose sight of the value of people, something in us gets off balance. Even causes that might begin with good intentions can drift into places that no longer reflect the heart of God.

I left that event grateful for the many organizations pouring themselves out to serve others. It was a reminder that there is still so much good in the world, and so many people quietly living out compassion in very real ways.

But I also left reminded of something deeper.

In God’s economy, people are not the problem to be managed. They are the priority to be loved.

And when we keep that truth in front of us, everything else finds its proper place.