The View from a Waiting Room

            I had barely parked my car.  The keys were still dangling in the ignition, and the seat belt has just dangled for a moment, before snapping back in place, nearly taking off my ear.

            The man appeared out of nowhere.  I rolled the window down, and before I could say anything, he started:  “I’m not going to apologize for being black. I’m just trying to feed me family.”

            The poor fellow appeared to be 40 or younger; already stooped, “weathered” by tough times.  I literally didn’t have a penny on me, and my doctor’s appointment was about 2 minutes ago; so my response was brief, basically a brush-off.

            In the waiting area (aptly named, of course) I had a moment to reflect.  I had just blown it!  I had an opportunity to show kindness, and I’d treated him as if he were unimportant. 

            I could have gotten out, shook his hand, ask his name, and listened even for a couple minutes.  I could have prayed with him.

            But I was too self-absorbed.  My schedule, my inconvenience, my discomfort.  My, my, my.  I am too often self-absorbed, which means I’m just plain full of myself.  Am I really full of that much pride?  What in the world do I have to be proud about?  Oh, I remember now: my “righteousness” not quite as valuable as dirty, ratty mop rags?

            John 3:30 says:  “He must become greater, I must become less.”  I know that is a little out of context, but the principle is not. 

            When we are new in our faith, we tend to call attention to our new life, our new beginning and tell others how it came about, all with a kind of “look-at-me-now” style.  But, the longer we walk as children of grace, the more our lives should call attention to Him. 

            That’s the nature of walking in grace. 

We decrease, get smaller; He increases.  And the greater His agenda becomes.

            Habits of self-interest may die hard, but die they must.  When we begin to see the world through His eyes, we don’t have to sit in waiting rooms with regret.