Jul 24 2008
Coming At It From a Different Angle
My Daily Question: Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us today?
I try too hard. Once, in my enthusiasm—others might call it zeal—to pursue a goal, someone said about my efforts, “Don’t shove it down their throats.” What followed was a pattern of resistance to any changes I suggested, and I took it personally.
Now, I have a new responsibility with new people. Again, I’m interested by what I can learn and give and excited to be involved with new people. But in a short time, I sensed and then saw that some are not so excited about the change.
I couldn’t help but think, “Am I repeating a pattern? What is wrong with my approach?”
And sensitive as I am, I took it to heart. I thought I’d toughened myself against the hurt, but it still stings. When my emotions grew, I stewed over how to resolve the problem head-on, cataloging in my mind all the things that “should” happen. My problem-solving turned to fretting, instead of inspiration. Humbled, I prayed to know where to direct my efforts and still move forward.
The answer: I needed to set aside this immediate challenge and allow another leader to work towards its solution. While I still felt like I had something valuable to add and cared about the outcome, I trusted the answer to shift my focus to different individuals.
I contacted them, and as we talked, I recognized their strengths and considered those. I approached my leader with a suggestion of how to use them for an upcoming assignment. She agreed, and I prepared.
In the course of doing so, I discovered that we were putting in place a new environment in which it would be possible for the other issue to be resolved from a different angle. That approach would have remained unknown to me without prayerful tempering of my will and refocusing of my energy.
I was coming home from work at our local arboretum recently on my bike and soon came to a busy crossing. I was tired and hated trying to get up my momentum after stopping to let cars go by.
The negative side of that story or the positive photographs of the end result may present a false impression of life on opposite extremes—one filled with problems or the other as picture perfect. Right in the middle of these extremes is a rather ordinary but hideous hillside connecting our front yard to our back.
Carefree and curious, my daughter peeks out from behind the fabric of the hammock. I capture the moment of calm with my camera and wonder at the possibilities ahead of her.
Our summer shifted this year to incorporate fewer scheduled activities and
I hadn’t played kickball since my fourth-grade days at Becky-David Elementary school where I was never the first one picked for the team. But my daughter chose me for hers. We played a hard game in our driveway, which has been designated as a premier kickball court with natural boundaries. I was glad for spontaneity and to be chosen. But after an hour or so, I happily turned my spot over to the neighbor boy who came just in time to replace me.


