Category: Prayer

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Growing Up, Hope, Prayer, Spirituality, Uncategorized

Pomp and Circumstance…

gregoryjoel

(My “editor” is resting from yesterday’s events so please excuse typos, etc. I have a difficult time editing myself, but I felt a need to get this out, given the time of year it is…)

It’s a fine Sunday morning here on the porch. A “cold front” came through last night and the morning was a bit cooler than recent days. Instead of triple digits we’re looking at the mid-nineties temperature-wise, so I’ll take the “cool” whenever and wherever I can get it. The last couple of days have been rough – my air conditioner in the truck went out followed by the driver’s side door latch breaking. Of course, it waited until after my mechanic was closed for the weekend. That’s just the way things go sometimes…

It’s hard to believe it’s already June. Graduation season is in full swing. My granddaughter, Baillie, graduated yesterday. It probably just me, but she looked different after the ceremony – more like a young adult than a graduating teenager – and I felt myself beaming on the inside. She’s growing up and I’m so proud of her. Her parents like to remind me of her “imperfections” and I know that no one, not even my granddaughter, is perfect. Still, as her grandfather, it’s my prerogative to see only the “perfect” young lady she’s become.

She’ll be starting college in the Fall and I’m somewhat relieved that it’ll be here at Tarrant County Community College, so she can nail down her basic curriculum before moving a little farther north to finish at the University of North Texas. I’m a little envious. College was a great time in my life. For her parent’s sake, I hope she doesn’t follow my path though. I liked it so much that I attended on the “ten-year plan…”

As I sat through the ceremony yesterday, I was reminded that some things have changed since my own graduation. For one, it appeared that everyone wore clothes underneath their graduation gowns. That wasn’t the case when I graduated. Of course, my ceremony was held outside at Red Rocks Amphitheater in Denver and several classmates chose to wear shorts under their gowns. Unfortunately, not everyone wore anything! In the mid-seventies, the cultural fad called “streaking” had reached its peak during my senior year. Today such behavior would be rewarded with a designation as a sex offender. Anyway…

I know there will be a whole host of new memories created as she grows and blossoms into adulthood, but I’m feeling a little melancholy this morning. Baillie’s not a little girl anymore. She’s a beautiful young lady. It’s silly to think that I can ride around with her in my old truck, singing silly songs, and talking about things that mean absolutely nothing to anyone else but us. She’s moving into adulthood with all the prerequisite changes that come with it – new friends, new places, and new experiences. I’ve known that since she became a teenager – schedules and obligations change so there’s less time for grandpa –  but high school graduation seems so final. If I dwell on that, things could get depressing real fast. So today I chose to dwell on the happiness I feel when we get time together. The melancholy takes on a whole new face…

I don’t run around with that “little” girl any more, but I have happy, cherished memories of the times we spent together in those younger days. Besides, when we do get time together today, I spend it with an incredible, beautiful young lady. I enjoy our dinner’s out and the talks we have. The conversation may be different, but she’s still my little girl and for that I’m truly grateful. We still get to make memories together, and they will be as cherished as all the rest.

That being said, I feel a little older now that her graduation has come and gone. Between Baillie’s graduation and the recurring medical issue that I’m dealing with are making me feel older than I am. The world is changing, kids grow up, and I find a few more wrinkles, aches, and pains in places I’ve never had them before. I’d love to say that I have no regrets about the last sixty years, but I’d be lying. There are things I wish I’d done differently, especially with my kids, even if they’ve all contributed to making me the person I am today. Besides, I probably have a lot more years to travel this path and looking backward probably slows me down. I try to travel light. God and a lot of grace has helped me lay down a lot of excess baggage.

I’m not always comfortable with the journey. Things are difficult to understand sometimes. For instance, Friday I was scanning through my news feed and I found that words don’t mean what they did when I was a kid. According to the Washington Post, Trump (I still can’t use “President” and Trump in the same sentence!) has been in office 497 days and made “false or misleading statements” to the public 3,251 times. That’s an average of 6.52 times a day. Apparently, “false and misleading statements” are not that big a deal anymore.

When I was a kid, they called “false and misleading statements”, lies. I used to get my butt smacked or sent to my room if I was caught lying. “Even a half-truth is a whole lie” as my friend Jim used to say. I should have told my parents I was just making “false and misleading statements”. Maybe I could have been President…

I hope that Baillie and her classmates don’t put up with “false and misleading statements”. I hope they are never afraid to call a lie a lie. As I watched them come forward one by one, name by name, to receive their diploma I felt hopeful – maybe their youthful idealism doesn’t have to fade away like so many generations before. After all, human history doesn’t have a great track record, but then again, weren’t records meant to be broken?

I haven’t always been so hopeful about the future. As an employer, I’ve dealt with employees and prospective employees that people call “millennials” and quite frankly, “hopeful” isn’t an adjective I used very often. If it wasn’t my granddaughter’s graduating class I’d probably feel somewhat apprehensive about the future with them as well. It’s more likely that seeing her class reminds me that we’re all given another chance to change the future every day – none of us has to “settle” – and the grace I’ve discovered, so much later in life, is available to them every day as well. And that my friends, gives me hope…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gardening, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

No Compromise…

gregoryjoel

I didn’t spend much time on the porch this morning. I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to. The little buddy on my hip, my IV infusion, makes the heat even more difficult to bear. I’m glad I made some changes in my professional life over the past year, but I really miss being outdoors much of the time. At least I’m able to spend time in my garden, even if it is in short spurts. I’m sure I’ll be able to be out more after this IV infusion therapy is over in a couple of months. Remember the “patience is a virtue” thing…

I’m grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given to practice patience today. I’m often guilty of trying to stay so busy that I fail to take care of myself. When I’m so busy that I let myself get run down it becomes difficult to hear the gentler, quiet voice of creation. I begin to feel “irritable, restless, and discontent”, as my elders warned me I would. I start to resent having to meet others needs and move toward total self-centeredness. Feeling too tired and over-stretched is a dangerous place for me to be.

I mention all this because of an article I read this morning that really struck me “right between the eyes”. It was talking about taking on work that compromises my values, my self-worth, and the future of my business. As a business owner and freelance writer, it really hit home. If I’m honest, I’ve been guilty of compromise and thus, suffered the consequences.

Thirteen years ago, I started a back-to-work program for a local non-profit providing transitional housing and social services for the homeless HIV/AIDS community. What I don’t often share, lest it affect my professional life, is that I was one of those on the receiving end of their services. I had only been in recovery for a few months but had lost my home, my health, and my family when I finally surrendered and began a new chapter in my life. I had been fortunate enough to do well professionally (if one can do well) until the last few months of my active addiction. My experience in business writing, operations management, and Human Resources made starting such a program much easier. Still, I’m grateful for the “gift of desperation” that led to a new relationship with the God of my understanding.

The “back-to-work” program, Hope Works, grew quickly: not so much in the number of people participating as in the profitability of the landscape portion of the program. To make a long story short, I was asked to buy-out that portion of the program and spent the last few years as a landscape and an outdoor living contractor. That’s when things changed.

Fear is an insidious beast that creeps in slowly. The article I mentioned earlier said that there were times when compromise is appropriate: like when first starting out for instance. I’m not sure I agree with that. My experience has taught me that lowering price to get the job has far reaching consequences. If the purpose of my business is to gain repeat customers and personal referrals, then the existing or potential customer learns to value my time and energy less for the next job. Moreover, I begin to resent the time I’m spending on their job. My resentment increases and my self-worth decreases. I treat people how to treat me. Go figure!

Every time I’ve compromised to get a job there have been consequences. Personally, and as a landscape contractor I’ve always worked organically, without the use of chemicals and pesticides that I know damage the creation I’m to be a steward of. For the first few years I had a policy of “organic only”. I wouldn’t take on a customer who wanted something other than organic lawn and garden care. However, after my first stroke I lost a lot of customers because I had to reschedule so many jobs. When I got back to full-time work I began to compromise my “organic only” policy. I needed to rebuild my business! The “what ifs” had crept in. It may sound silly to you, but I felt terrible because I knew I had violated my values. Although I’d offered a temporary solution to their landscaping issue, I’d caused long-term damage to their yard and the creation I’m so passionate about defending.

So why do I compromise? Simply put, it’s because I’m scared. Intellectually, I know that God loves me and holds me in high regard. He’s never let me down. Looking backward, the evidence of His care is 100% true. I can intellectually know that and still be in emotional fear. What if I don’t get the job? What if I go without? How do I provide for my family? The questions go on and on. Where is my faith in the middle of all of this? I’m convinced that fear is the root of all my troubles – I compromise out of fear.

There were many reasons why I decided to return to freelancing full-time – I’m getting older, I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to, the frustrations of dealing with employees and subcontractors, and the fact that I can be at home more often for Margaret – but the bottom line is that I’m good at what I do, and I bring value to my clients. Starting this new business venture has been slow-going and frustrating at times. I’ve had to say no to potential business – they wanted me to compromise the value of my services – and there’s been a lot of “what ifs” and self-doubt. The difference is that I set a “no compromise” policy when it comes to potential business – even when I’m scared about the future. Contrary to popular belief, faith isn’t merely the absence of fear. It’s the ability to walk through it. It’s ironic that in doing so, I experience more success than I ever have, and my clients benefit as well. Moreover, it’s brought me far more meaningful projects and one’s that I’m more passionate about.

There are times when compromise is necessary. After all, the world isn’t always black and white and relationships – personal, business, and social – are fluid, never static. We “go along to get along”; but compromising who (and who’s) I am, is not up for negotiation. The Rabbi asked:

“If God gives such attention to the wildflowers – most of which are never even seen – don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do her is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving… Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, and God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out! You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met”. (Matthew 6.30-33 The Message)

Fear still creeps in, but I don’t compromise my value today. I do good work. I listen to my client and the needs of their audience. That’s highly valuable to my client, my community, and myself. That seems to spur me on to an even better work for them – and myself. Moreover, I don’t worry (at least not as much!) like I used to. It’s definitely the “easier, softer way” (some of you know where I got that…) of living I always dreamed of. It’s so much easier to do and be my best when I’m willing to say “no” to compromise. I’m a “people-pleaser” by nature so saying “no” wasn’t so easy at first, but it’s become easier, and I’ve grown from it’s benefits.

There was a show on television yesterday about the decade of the Eighties and I saw a clip about Nancy Reagan’s “Just say no” anti-drug campaign. I’m not so sure it was a great motto for avoiding drugs, but it sure makes living in my skin a lot easier. My advice to you then is “Just say No”…

Christianity, Faith, Prayer, Recovery, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

Jet Planes and Donkeys

gregoryjoel

Memorial Day weekend is over. It’s traditionally been the start of summer, though the summer equinox is still three weeks away. After sitting on the porch for a while this morning I’m inclined to say it’s officially summer. We’re going to end the month of May with 100 degree-plus temperatures and start June with the same. So far, we’re in the running for the second hottest month of May on record, although we still have a couple of days to go yet. It seems hotter weather is becoming the norm as each year seems to be in the top two or three warmest years. However, it probably snowed somewhere justifying the claims of “climate deniers”. Such blatant disregard for God’s creation and the future of my grandkids makes me want to throw up.

I was perusing the news feed this morning, as is my habit. It seems things go on as usual, and there were a couple of things that simply broke my heart. How some people in the world treat other people really gets to me, even though I’ve come to expect a daily exposition of xenophobic tribalism, misogyny, and oppression. I could get really depressed and complacent about it, but fortunately it only steels my resolve to love others better. I’m responsible for my actions today. I know who I serve and I try my best to show it in my actions. I really want to live loving God and loving others. As Bob Dylan said, “You gotta serve somebody…”

I guess that’s why I got so upset when I came across an article from the New Orleans newspaper, The  Times-Picayune about Louisiana televangelist, Jesse Duplantis, asking for donations for a new $54 million private jet. Now remember, I live in Fort Worth, Texas, the “buckle of the Bible belt”, so I shouldn’t be shocked by such revelations. After all, Kenneth Copeland Ministries is only a few miles away with his “compound”, armed security, and a private jet or two. It’s a “Prosperity Gospel” televangelist kind of thing. Still, this story got to me. Duplantis’ claim that if Jesus were here today, “he’d have a jet” made me so angry I was fit to be tied (for a while, anyway). At the risk of sounding self-righteous, I’ll tell you why.

I am a follower of Jesus, which earns me the religious designation of “Christian”. I’m extremely uneasy with that religious title today because of stories like the one I read this morning. More importantly, I really want to live out of the faith I have today and sharing the “Good News”. I guess that makes me an “evangelical” (from the Greek “euangelion”, the good news, from “euangelos” bringing good news, from “eu- + angelos” messenger – Merriam-Webster) Christian. I’ve found a relationship with God that works, and I want to share it. As St. Francis said, “Preach often. If necessary, use words”. Since the majority of communication is non-verbal (just ask my wife when I let out a heavy sigh…), I hope my actions speak louder than my words. I hope my actions shout out the relationship I have with God today.

I guess that’s why I’m so angry today. I’m sick and tired of my faith being co-opted by the likes of the Duplantis’, Copelands, and Falwells of this world. I’m not some right-wing, gun-toting, “America first”, pseudo-patriot portrayed by the media (and often rightly so). I’m not some “wolf in sheep’s clothing” religious charlatan praying on others with a promise of prosperity if you’ll just send in money today. It sickens me to think of those that do. I left the faith for many years because I didn’t want to be associated with that type of “Christian”.

Today I find my heart broken when I hear of stories like the one about Jesse Duplantis. The God I’ve come to know isn’t a Santa Clause-god, making a list and checking it twice, waiting to shower good little boys and girls with all kinds of financial blessings, content to leave the rest of us with a lump of coal. The God I’ve come to know isn’t some petty little dictator who demands perfection from His subjects. The God I’ve come to know isn’t interested in self-righteous piety or earning my way into His good graces. That’s why my heart breaks every time I read a story like this one.

The God I’ve come to know has simplified my life and definitely changed my understanding of prosperity. I don’t have a private jet, nor do I need one, but I’ve become indescribably rich. Jesus said He came to give me life – abundantly. That has come true for me today. I often hear that God “wants me to be happy”. I not sure I entirely agree. I do believe He wants me to live joyously – regardless of what’s going on. I believe He wants me to love Him and love others. I believe He wants me to trust Him and to live freely. It’s all pretty darn simple! When I get wrapped up in my own plots and plans He patiently showers me with boundless grace. I don’t have to be perfect. I just need to be me. I like the me I’m becoming.

I must confess that sometimes I’m as judgmental and self-righteous as the “church” I complain about. Yet, I know there are thousands of other followers of Jesus who are living out their faith in wonderful, if imperfect, ways. I’ve experienced their grace many times over. They show me what God is like. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the “wheat from the chaff” if you know what I mean. Sometimes my frustration with so many churches is that even good church leaders fail to share about their imperfections. What I hear is impossible standards for me to live up to.

I guess that’s why I’d rather be labeled something other than “evangelical” Christian even if that’s what I am.  I’d much rather be thought of as a follower of the Rabbi, Jesus. He turned the world, and my thinking, upside down and gave me a new pair of eyes to see the world with. He did it free of charge and didn’t even ask me for my last ten dollars. Now that’s a deal! Oh, and by the way, the Jesus I know still prefers donkeys to private jets…

 

Christianity, Chronic Illness, Faith, Health, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

At least I have insurance…

gregoryjoel

I was finally able to have some thoughts from the porch this morning. If you read on, you’ll know why I haven’t been able to post anything for the last several days. I’ve missed my porch like you wouldn’t believe. My front porch represents everything good and wonderful in my little world – my wife, my kids and grandkids, my dogs, my friends, and most of all, my God – the things that have real value; that are truly important. I never knew how much I missed my mornings on the porch until I couldn’t be there. I’m sorry for the longer read than usual. Maybe you can relate to it.

Before we jump off though I need to say a heartfelt thank you to Jodi, Jennifer, and Mary – the house looks great! Margaret and I don’t know what we’d do without you all; without our “village”. So, without further ado…

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21st May 2018:   “I’m going to try this again”. That phrase has been repeated a lot the last few days. You see, I haven’t posted anything since Mother’s Day as I’ve been in the hospital since last week. I can’t get the “guest” wi-fi to work and the constant in and out of nurses, technicians, and doctors has caused me too many stops and starts. Add to that the fact that all I can think about is going home and the result is writer’s block. So, I’m going to try this again…

I’m beyond tired of this place. The staff here is amazing. The nurses and doctors are wonderful, but I miss my wife, my dogs, and my front porch. Joni Mitchell was right, “you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone”. I’ve listened to Joni for a long time and maybe that’s why I always end conversations with “I love you”. There are times life shows up and things change in an instant. Whether it’s a temporary absence or a permanent one, I certainly don’t want to leave “I love you” unsaid to the people in my life. I may only be in a hospital room down the road, but I feel like I might as well be on the moon.

So here I sit, hooked up to an IV pole, wishing I was enjoying the gorgeous spring day from the comfort of my porch rather than seeing it through the window of this hospital room. Apparently, I have an infection related to my bout with brain surgery and meningitis several years ago. My doctor says it’s far more serious than I would like to think. I have to be on IV antibiotics for the next eight weeks because if the infection enters my bloodstream I risk going septic and all that entails. Moreover, it’s only a couple of millimeters from my cerebellum and that’s not good. I told her there’s nothing there to get infected, but she didn’t see the humor in that. So, even if I’m feeling better today, there are some serious goings-on underneath the surface. Ain’t that always the case…

Being hooked up to an IV isn’t so bad. I’ve dealt with that several times in the past. It’s always been a few days of inconvenience. What is bad is that Medicare, in its infinite wisdom, doesn’t want to pay unless I go to a “skilled nursing facility” (the politically correct way of saying “nursing home”) for ongoing treatment. I’m not sure why as they didn’t seem to have a problem with home infusion treatment five years ago. Not only was I able to be home with my family back then, it was much cheaper than being in a rehab facility. I guess cheaper home care doesn’t make much sense to Medicare. Then again common sense doesn’t apply to insurance companies. No wonder healthcare is so expensive!

So, I’m in limbo as to when I get to go home and I’m experiencing some serious fear here. The “what ifs” have reached critical levels here. “what if” I’m not home to take care of Margaret? “What if” I’m not home to take care of the bills and the house (as if she wasn’t handling those things before we ever married…)? “What if” my new business venture fails because I’m locked away in a nursing home (even if it is for only a couple of months)? “What if” I’m destined to eat nursing home food for the next eight weeks? Suddenly, sepsis sounds like a viable alternative…

“What if, what if, what if” – I’ve made myself miserable and wrapped myself in fear in short course. So, I did what people like me do: I changed the way I felt (I just heard a collective gasp from my friends in recovery…). I prayed and took a nap. You see, sleep changes the way I feel. God instructed the Hebrew people to enjoy the Sabbath rest. I get it. There’s power in napping. It’s a brief escape from uncomfortable and, sometimes, painful situations. Somehow, I see the situation more clearly upon awakening. I spoke to my wife, my close friends, and had a long conversation with God. Now I’m able to react more appropriately even though my problem still exists. Pre-nap, I wanted to rip the PICC line out of my arm and call an Uber. Post-nap, I’m still tethered to the IV pole but I’m making the phone calls necessary to solve my dilemma. Changing the way I feel means something different today.

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22nd May 2018   I’ve had a good night’s sleep and a morning of prayer since I started writing this. I still don’t have a resolution to the “skilled nursing facility” question, but I know God has already taken care of it. I’m not as fearful and anxious as I was yesterday. I keep hearing a gentle, sweet voice saying, “look at the lilies of the field… aren’t you worth more than all of them”?

My beautiful and incredible wife has reminded me over and over that we’ve been through worse and that we have an amazing village of friends and family who have always walked with us. She even took the humbling step of asking for help via a gofundme page. Although this medical stuff couldn’t have happened at a worse time, I wasn’t too thrilled with that idea until she reminded me that “a closed mouth doesn’t get fed”. Her capacity for humility far exceeds mine. I want to be like her when I grow up.

This whole situation is another reminder that God always has my back and my best interests at heart no matter what’s going on. Yesterday, my prayers, my conversation with God contained some words I’d rather not put in print. My prayers were, like so many of the Psalms, a lament going up to God. My fears, my doubt, my feelings of abandonment, and frustration poured out and as they did I began to feel a sense of peace. God cares how I feel. He listens. He lets me vent my frustration. I’ve come to learn that He far prefers the authenticity of gut-wrenching and even colorful language to the posturing and “thee’s” and “thou’s” of my youth. He’s more than just a theological concept. He’s my “Abba” (Hebrew for “dad”). Because he loves me, I can bring everything to Him. Everything’s okay…

I still don’t know what the outcome is going to be, but I felt peace and clarity. I was able to make calls to the insurance company and others involved. Dealing with health insurance is NOT, I repeat NOT, a pleasant experience! Still, I treated the person on the other end of the line with courtesy and kindness. I was able to practice my doctor’s admonition to deal with them firmly without getting hung up on.

I didn’t feel much like being kind, at least not yesterday. Still, acting kindly, regardless of my feelings, has its own reward – a sense of calm and a positive change of heart. I didn’t talk to any of “those” people. I talked to another person like me just trying to make the day and provide for their family. They weren’t out to screw over Greg Joel. Imagine that…

Engaging in honest, authentic prayer, relying on a “village” of family and friends, and putting one foot in front of the other made yesterday’s crisis today’s simple annoyance. It will be okay whether I go home or have to go to a “skilled nursing facility” (that really does sound better than “nursing home…). In the grand scheme of things, two months isn’t that big a deal. I still miss my wife, my dogs, and my old front porch. It might just take me a while to get there.

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May 23rd – as my friend Edgar says, “Day eight of the hostage situation…”

I’m still here in the Harris tower of the hospital. It might as well be the Tower of London, except for the torture chambers, beheadings, and such. Okay, maybe not like the Tower of London at all. It just feels that way. Don’t tell me you don’t exaggerate your feelings…

I may be stuck here again today, but this is really nothing compared with what the majority of folks deal with. I have a roof over my head, food (even if it is hospital food) to eat, and clean water to drink. As frustrating as Medicare can be, I have it despite living in a state where uninsured medical care is the norm. I have this great view of downtown from my sixth-floor window and the staff here has been beyond fantastic. I start with the simple things and my gratitude list goes on and on…

Later in the day…

I tried to expound on my experience with gratitude today, but I just heard the news – the insurance approved my home IV infusion. I’m going home. Go figure…

Christianity, Faith, Gardening, Prayer, Relationships, Spirituality, Uncategorized

Gardens and Home Depot

gregoryjoel

The last few days have been incredibly busy – busy enough to put my thoughts from the porch on the back burner and take care of business. I must say there’s a feeling of satisfaction drawing lines through the items on the “To Do” list. The list is still longer than I’d like, but shorter than it was yesterday. I’ll chalk it up as a win. Unfortunately, I know it’s only temporary. My wife’s in the other room watching a whole season of HGTV’s Fixer-Upper. The list is growing longer as we speak…

I spent some time on the porch and retreated to my office to catch up on emails and check the morning newsfeeds. One service, who shall remain anonymous, listed seven top stories. Number five on the list was actual news about what’s going on in the world. Number seven was a good human-interest story related to a victim of the Waffle House shootings several days ago. The number one top story was about Tom Brady’s tuxedo choice and the rest were about the difficulties and fashion faux pas` of other celebrities. And we wonder how our elected officials got to where they are…

I generally start my mornings with some prayer time followed up with perusing my newsfeeds before sitting down to my workday. Maybe my routine should be the other way around though. I seem to need to pray more after I see what’s going on in the world. I refuse to be that guy who sits around bemoaning the state of the nation and society in general. I may be getting older, but I’m not an old codger. Then again, one doesn’t have to be old to be an “old codger”.

My experience has taught me that it’s not important what you do, it’s important what I do. Sometimes that feels like a cop-out, a resignation to what’s going on around me, but I know it’s not. “That’s just the way it is” and “you can’t fight city hall” are unacceptable answers for me today. I can be part of the problem or part of the solution. There’s no middle ground for me. I’d rather be part of the solution. To paraphrase Jesus, “I can either serve God, living as a citizen of His kingdom, or I can serve the same old, tired system of consumerism and scarcity”. I think I’d rather be a citizen of His kingdom…

My actions may not seem like much, and truth be known, they aren’t when taken separately. For instance, I care about the environment I live in. I can’t stop Big Ag from using GMO seeds and increasing amounts of fertilizers that drain the life from the soil. Oh, I can sign petitions and write letters to the appropriate officials. It may do absolutely nothing to sway their actions, but I keep sending and signing anyway. Moreover, I treat my own yard and garden with care, using only organic methods that restore and rejuvenate the soil. Maybe my neighbors see a difference in my yard and want to try something different. Hopefully, my actions affect someone else.

I was at Home Depot the other day. The check-out line was long and excruciatingly slow. I had a tight schedule and that seemed to add to the delay. The cashier was helping an older lady who was having some difficulty getting her credit card to go through. Behind her in line was a large, gruff man who huffed and puffed about how Home Depot was always so slow and inconvenienced him. I silently prayed that the elderly lady at the check-out didn’t hear him. When she finally closed out her sale, the man stepped up and began to berate the cashier with a series of expletives about her and Home Depot. I felt really bad for the young cashier, but I admired her ability to refrain from responding in a negative way.

When I got to the register all I could say was how sorry I was for her to be treated that way. She smiled and said, “thank you” and I could see her holding back the tears. I told her how grateful I was for her example and patience. She seemed to be struck by the kind words. I don’t have any idea how the rest of her day went. I do know that, for a moment, her world was a letter brighter. Maybe, just maybe, she got a glimpse of the kingdom. Acts of kindness are better done intentionally than randomly.

Nothing I do will change the world in general or society at large. Life will go on. My news feed will be filled with stories of violence, fear, and celebrity tuxedo choices, and so on. Yet, what I do does affect the world around me. I’d like to think that the cashier at Home Depot had a better day, and I know that the produce from my garden will taste far better than anything I could have gotten at the store…