We’d eaten at the restaurant several times. The food was good and the location convenient, but the server was memorable for his sour mood. He’d waited on us before, and each time he radiated the same “I don’t want to be here” vibe.
This time, my wife discovered a toothpick in her taquito. Fortunately, it didn’t hurt her, and it had obviously been used during preparation before somehow getting rolled up inside. She decided not to say anything.
We finished our meal and went to the register to pay. As our server rang us up, his gruff demeanor fell away. “I saw the toothpick on your plate. I’m so sorry that happened. I don’t know how it got there, but it was clean, just used in prep.”
My wife assured him accidents happen and that it was okay. He replied, “Thank you for being a nice person. Most people aren’t. When something goes wrong, they get mad and write bad reviews and hurt our business even more.”
I asked him if he was the owner, and he nodded glumly. I told him I couldn’t imagine how tough it was to run a restaurant. His reply was startlingly honest: “I want to jump off a building. We never recovered from Covid. The rent is too high. We’re just barely getting by.”
We expressed our sympathy, gave him a nice tip, and said our goodbyes. As we drove away, my wife and I discussed how our perspective of the man had changed now that we knew what he was going through. I was reminded of a quote:
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
plato
When you come across a difficult person, try to withhold judgement. Remember that you don’t know what struggles they’re facing. The young, checked-out cashier might have just gotten rejected for the scholarship that was her only hope for college. The guy who cut you off in traffic may be a single dad racing home from his third job, trying to see his kids before they fall asleep. The older woman distractedly blocking the grocery aisle with her cart may have just buried her husband of fifty-three years. Give the grace you’d hope to receive when you’re not at your best. If you do, you’ll help create a kinder world, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
For years, my wife and I have toyed with the notion of becoming nomads. We both love to travel, and as authors, we can work remotely. Our two kids are married and thriving. Other than our friends, our stuff, and our condo, there’s not much tying us to one place.
What if we ditched the mortgage, sold everything, and hit the road?Traveled the country and the world, living in AirBnbs, hotels, with friends and family, writing as we go? Free to live virtually anywhere at anytime—what would that be like?
It’s been an intriguing idea, but the timing never felt right. That’s what we told ourselves anyway. In reality, I lacked the courage.
Until now.
Lisa and I have each lost a parent in the last eighteen months, which drove home the reality that life is short and the future is not guaranteed. And being in our mid fifties, we’ve lived long enough to learn that deferred dreams have a way of never coming to pass.
So we’re not going to delay any longer. A few months ago, we sold rental house #1. We’re in the process of selling rental house #2. We put our primary residence condo on the market last week, expecting to wait several months for a decent offer. It sold in two days.
Now we’re scrambling. We already took a significant step toward minimalism a number of years ago when we downsized from an oversized, overstuffed house in the suburbs to a one thousand square foot condo. Now we’re going even further. We’re trading in our 2007 two door sedan for a new SUV. Other than some boxes of important documents, treasured memorabilia, and favorite books in a closet at our daughter’s place, everything we own has to fit in our new home on wheels.
While this dream comes with a lot of freedom, flexibility, new experiences, and low fixed expenses, there are some strong downsides—giving up a place we can call our own, set up just the way we like it, that we can return to anytime. The grind of travel. Time away from friends.
Will we love this new life? Hate it? Burn out in six months and choose to buy or rent a full-time home base again? I have no idea. But I find I’m incredibly excited. And proud of us for taking this step into the unknown. Whatever the outcome, we’ll make some great memories and wont have to live with “what if?”
How about you? Do you have a costly dream? Something that would make the people around you scratch their heads? Maybe it’s giving up a lucrative career for an “impractical” one that makes you come alive. Or turning down a relationship that’s perfect-on-paper for someone who simply makes you happy. Or giving up TV and nights out to write that novel that you’ve been mulling for years. Think it through. Plan well. Choose your moment. Breathe deep. Then jump.At worst, you’ll fail while living boldly. At best, you’ll discover previously unknown heights of joy and fulfillment. Either way, you’ll take a giant leap toward Becoming Yourself.
I’ve been plagued by questions like, “What is it really?”, “What does it accomplish?” and “Why am I so bad at it?”
I completely understand if prayer is irrelevant to your life and worldview. Please feel free to stop reading and catch the next post. But if you’ve ever wrestled with these questions, I hope my story will help.
At a conference on prayer I attended many years ago, I learned two helpful concepts that have stuck with me:
1. I don’t pray for how it changes the world. I pray for how it changes me.
I don’t claim to know how God answers prayer. There are examples in the Bible and my own life where prayer seemed to have effected earthly outcomes and other times when it didn’t. I believe God answers prayers in the way a parent answers requests from their children—sometimes yes, sometimes no, sometimes not yet. Answers from a good parent, however painful, are always given with the child’s best interest in mind. That’s where I land—I trust that God knows what’s best for the world and for me. My final prayer is always “Let Your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” (The Bible, Matthew 6:10)
Regardless of the outward influence of my prayers, they change me in good ways. When I pray for others, I’m more motivated to help them, and I’m jolted out of my obsession with my own problems. As I meditate on the struggles of others, I’m reminded of the sweetness of my own life. When I pray for myself, I’m reminded that I need help from Someone bigger than me to become who I want to be, providing a healthy dose of humility.
2. Prayer isn’t something you do, it’s Someone you love.
Rather than ask “Why should I pray?”, try “In a relationship, why should I talk?” You talk to get to know each other. To share information, thoughts, feelings, fears and anxieties, hopes and dreams. To deepen your connection. Because you enjoy each other’s company. That’s how I feel about talking with God. At its core, my relationship with God is just that—a relationship. What better way to grow and maintain a relationship than through talking?
Obviously communicating with God is different than communicating with another human being. The conversation often feels very one-sided. I believe there are ways to learn to listen to God’s voice, but that’s beyond the scope of this post (You can read my post on how I connect with God here).Different though it may be, prayer is the most effective way I’ve found to deepen my relationship with God.
The following excerpt from the late author, professor and theologian Henri Nouwen beautifully addresses this topic. Read his words. Try prayer, in whatever way works for you. Pray for others. Pray for yourself. Be honest. Be vulnerable. Be specific. Be grateful. If you do, I believe you’ll find a deeper, more satisfying life, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
Why Pray? by Henri Nouwen
Why should I spend an hour in prayer when I do nothing during that time but think about people I am angry with, people who are angry with me, books I should read, and books I should write, and thousands of other silly things that happen to grab my mind for a moment?
The answer is: because God is greater than my mind and my heart and what is really happening in the house of prayer is not measurable in terms of human success and failure.
What I must do first of all is to be faithful. If I believe that the first commandment is to love God with my whole heart, mind, and soul, then I should at least be able to spend one hour a day with nobody else but God. The question as to whether it is helpful, useful, practical, or fruitful is completely irrelevant, since the only reason to love is love itself. Everything else is secondary.
The remarkable thing, however, is that sitting in the presence of God for one hour each morning—day after day, week after week, month after month—in total confusion and with myriad distractions radically changes my life. God, who loves me so much that he sent his only son not to condemn me but to save me, does not leave me waiting in the dark too long. I might think that each hour is useless, but after thirty or sixty or ninety such useless hours, I gradually realize that I was not as alone as I thought; a very small, gentle voice has been speaking to me far beyond my noisy place.
So, be confident and trust in the Lord.
This post was originally published December 4, 2021.
Daily Meditation posted by the Henri Nouwen Society, Nov 20, 2021.Text excerpts taken from “You are the Beloved” by Henri J.M. Nouwen (c) 2017 by the Henri Nouwen Legacy Trust, published by Convergent Books.
