A dose of humility

I watched a man yelling at a car from the sidewalk. He looked like he was trying to start something with the person in the car he was yelling at. His hands were agitated and he looked angry behind his sunglasses and goatee. He walked into the store as I was getting out of my car in the parking lot. He emerged from the store as I stepped on the sidewalk.

He smiled broadly and said “Hi, Jim. Do you remember me?” I confessed that I didn’t. He then stated his name and as I looked at him, I did remember. He introduced me to his girlfriend and went on and on, telling her what a wonderful human being I was, and how I had changed his life. I was grateful to hear that, as it beats the alternative.

However, I don’t think I ever encouraged him to be an “ass” on sidewalks. He had changed his appearance. I remember him being kind of a geek in scrubs. He was now a “player”.

Whenever I am tempted to puff myself up on how wonderful and effective I am, I visualize people like him. I realize that I am just not that powerful.

It does make me wonder how God feels when acting like jerks; we state, “I owe this all to God!” I visualize God in heaven shaking his head muttering, “please stop; you look like an idiot, and I don’t want the credit.” It makes me grateful I am not God.

Kindness or compulsion

I accompanied my wife to a sale at Nordstoms in the Mall of America. There were chairs placed on the sales floor to accommodate the men's exhaustion from shopping with their women.

Between two chairs in the department, was on an end table. A piece of trash lay unmolested on the table; a discarded receipt.

A couple walked by, the woman stopped. She backed up, picked it up the paper and threw it in the trash.

At first I felt a pang of guilt. I had been content to let the crumpled paper lie there. Here was a woman who performed a kind responsible act for the environment. I was willing to allow the trashing of the planet. This woman, a self-appointed guardian of Mother Earth had stepped in and acted.

But then, as I thought on, I speculated what she must be like to live with. Maybe she’s not a planet guardian. Maybe she's just compulsive. Maybe she couldn't stop herself. Trash NEEDS to be picked up. Perhaps inside she was dying, trying not to pick up the trash. Maybe it wasn't a personal triumph, but rather a private failure.

A reason I believe it is the latter explanation is that this happened in the Mall of America, the shrine of the American consumer. Unlike much of the earth with its unprotected soil exposed, the mall is covered in concrete.

So to the woman I say: for peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe. Fight the urge, let some things go. You'll feel better. That's why I didn't pick it up. Or was it because I didn’t care?

Being watched

This morning I was out walking. I had to cross a county road, which meant I had to stop to let cars pass by. On my left a police car came to a stop in front of the crosswalk. I looked to my right and a white Chrysler minivan was proceeding, not appearing to be stopping.

I watched the face of the woman driving the van as she realized that the police vehicle was at a standstill. I could see the look of understanding as the front of her van started to dip from quickly applied brakes. I waved at both of them in appreciation.

I had to think though about why we do what we do. I don’t think she would have stopped if the squad car had not stopped. There was an understanding that if she didn’t stop, the police might give her a ticket, and it might not have been worth the risk to find out.

We can be so good, obedient, kind, thoughtful, ______(fill in the blank) when we are aware we are being watched.

Changing

I have started to address my weight. I am going to eat better and walk. I started today. I am hoping that if I announce this in cyberspace, it will have a greater impact on my willpower.

The irony is that there is never any good place to start. The heavier you get, the more you have to lose to get to your ideal weight. The ideal weight never needs to change. What increases is the weight you need to lose to get to your ideal weight. The longer you wait, the more pounds you put on, and the more you have to lose. Another factor is that you also an increasing number of years in which you pursued poor eating habits, and those habits are hard to break.

I thought about that in terms of changing other things about your life, like habits, or unhealthy thinking. I have begun to wonder if the longer you wait to make those changes, the less likely you are to change because it is another year of a habit, another year of incorrect thinking. Our worldview may have increasingly solidified, making us more set in their ways.

There are people I care about who refuse to change some of the things in their lives, even though those things aren’t working out well for them. They blindly plunge ahead continuing to wound those around them. When confronted by change they become belligerent. I have gotten old enough to let go of the anger and frustration, but the older I get, the less I think things will work out.

It appears that each year brings more dependence on the habits and thinking of the past, and less chance for considering change. Thank God that one of the things that comes with age, for me anyway, is an increasing sense of tolerance.

The power of believing

The second day out on the backpacking trip we stayed by a river. We were drying things out from getting dumped on the night before. The kids want to go play in the river. I suggested to my daughter that she put her suit on. She declined the idea and headed off with her brother and her cousin to explore. She came back pretty soon after leaving to put on her suit so “I don’t get my clothes wet.” I told her that she needed to be careful in the river. Her response was “I’m with Bill (her 20 year old brother). I’ll be okay; he’s a lifeguard. She then ran off to join the guys.

A short time later I went to see where they were. They were nowhere to be seen. Their clothes and shoes were on the rocks, but I couldn’t see them at all. I turned back to the campsite, believing that they were okay. And they were. They could see me, even though I couldn’t see them.

I was struck by the powerful and simple faith of a preteen. To her, the world is safe, and those around her, who care about her, protect her. What a potent belief!

Adventures with hip belts

I went backpacking this weekend. The first shock I had to deal with was feeling like Mr. Incredible getting into my backpack’s hip belt. Apparently a LOT of water has run under the bridge, and some has stayed there. The hardest part about attempting to buckle a belt is not being able to see it. I push and from my vantage point it looks like it is lining up, but one of the prongs may not be in the clasp. If it is lined up, there may be part on my tee shirt that won't let the buckle snap closed. I pirouette. I gasp for breath. I release the clips, palms on my knees trying to catch my breath. I try again.

My 12-year-old daughter is watching me, amused by my antics and concerned by my red face. The telltale click says we have contact. I don’t have to tighten my belt, just my breathing. As we set off on the trail, I’ve already experienced adventure.

Dead in church

This week in church I sat there, numb. My throat hurt and I didn’t feel good. I didn’t feel any energy to move or sing with any kind of gusto. I didn’t get much out of the message as I thought it was delivered somewhat clumsily.

At the end of the service the speaker read a story. I went from an immobile face, to tears on my cheeks. The story was powerful and moving and it woke my spirit.

The great thing about God is that He accepts me just as I am. When I am in a worship service, I don’t have to pretend. He knows where I am at and is willing to wait quietly for my response.