Wednesday, January 4, 2012

It's not about you.

Sometimes I want to shout that to people driving on the road that cut other cars off. I mean, surely where they are going is more important than where I am going, right? And certainly the people in their car are more valuable that the people in mine. My grandpa used to speed in front of those rude folks on toll roads and pay their tolls for them. Now that's love.

I want to tell it to the rude, impatient man waiting to check out in line at Walmart behind me that's practically breathing down my neck, "Please learn to be a little more patient, sir, or at least keep your distance. I need to check out just like you. You're giving yourself a heart attack stressing like that."

I want to scold the little kids laughing at the old man in the wheelchair. "Hey, he lost his leg fighting for your freedom."

I want to shout it at the woman who was in a hurry and nearly ran a kid over who was trying to cross the street. "Do you really need to get to Sonic before 4pm in exchange for this kid's life? How bout I give you a dollar for your coke and you slow down."

I want to tell the man who leaves his wife and kids each night to fend for themselves while he's off hanging with his buddies, "Don't you think you'll wake up one day and regret that decision? You can't get time back."

I want to ask every American who has 17 coats hanging in their closet if they can find a way to give away just one to someone who may be cold this winter.

There are a million choices every day. I've learned that the little things matter. We're all the same.

But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first. Matthew 19:30

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