Paul in the Bible, I talk a good game, but I find myself doing exactly
what I said I wouldn’t do and not doing what I said I would do.
It’s taken some time, but I’m starting to act like my purpose is to love
God and to love the people around me the way Jesus loved the people
around Him. As much as I’d like to make it more complicated and have
more steps so I can find some cover for my inaction, it’s really that
simple. Loving my neighbors, even when they’re the punishingly slow
rental-car return guy, means I have to find a new way to engage them. To
pull this off, I need to do it with an unreasonable amount of patience and
kindness and understanding.
We all encounter difficulties. It’s what we do next that defines us.
During the times when I’m confused, my feelings have been hurt, or I’m
exhausted or frustrated, I’m learning how to fill my bucket with love.
People don’t grow where they’re planted; they grow where they’re loved.
Knowing things about the Bible is terrific. But I’d trade in a dozen Bible
studies for a bucket full of acceptance—and truth be told, so would
everyone around us.
While unloading on the rental guy the way I wanted to at first might
have worked for me for a few moments as I let off some steam, the
conversation wouldn’t have worked for him. Because I had been filling
my bucket with patience, I’m sure I had the conversation I should have
had with the rental-car guy that day. As a result, I let loose a lot of grace
into the world. It’s this simple and that difficult. The guy who is up in
front at church needs to be the same guy in the back of the rental-car line.
If you can’t do that, either stop driving or get off the stage. Bringing
those two different people together is going to take a whole lifetime—and
a pretty big bucket.
My daughter, Lindsey, is a teacher. One year, when she was teaching
kindergarten, she told me she was working on report cards. Lindsey