I have a nail and a screw embedded in the rubber of the same tire, on my barely three-month old car.
We kind of take it for granted that we're safe in the things we have: our homes, our cars, etc.
Three days after a near-fire in my garage, on top of a slow-leaking tire, I had the epiphany that God's answering my prayer to keep me riveted to Him.
Humility is huge.
It comes continuously, on the heels of every mistake.
It comes with the realization of our dependence on community. Not for what we get, but in the giving; where we realize just how much we have to give. The humility comes from just how much we've received as well.
It comes in the form of advice from friends, provision in the form of just enough, & knowing yourself well enough to know you don't know it all.
It comes with the realization of our dependence on community. Not for what we get, but in the giving; where we realize just how much we have to give. The humility comes from just how much we've received as well.
It comes in the form of advice from friends, provision in the form of just enough, & knowing yourself well enough to know you don't know it all.
In our false sense of security, when things don't go our way & we end up at the tire store getting four new tires, we find ourselves in the discomfort of a new place. One where we don't know anyone, where the noises and voices are foreign to us.
The beauty of realization shines through, when I understand that this may not be where I thought or hoped I'd be today, & this is not part of my normal routine.
But this is normal for someone else.
To hear the joking behind the doors leading to the work bays.
To hear the workers questions, advice, & evidence of a shared passion or skill, just confirms their comfort, their familiarity.
To hear the joking behind the doors leading to the work bays.
To hear the workers questions, advice, & evidence of a shared passion or skill, just confirms their comfort, their familiarity.
Just because I am unfamiliar with what they do, doesn't mean they're valued any less, or any less important. On the contrary - without them, how many of us would be stranded where we are, or half-way to where we're headed?
How many people serve us, in some capacity, day in & day out, yet they go unthanked, or even worse, treated like somehow they are less-than?
ALMOST EVERYONE.
Grocery store clerks, gas station attendants, restaurant servers, tool booth attendants, the list can go on & on.
This is where gratitude kicks in for me. Whether someone is "getting paid to do that job", they're still doing it. For me. For you. And they're still human, just like me & you.
Wouldn't that make them just as "important" as we think we are?
