Everybody, Always

twenty-five minutes, I had done my best to fill my bucket with patience.
This time, instead of making the snarky remark that easily came to mind,
I said to the guy as I got out of my car, “I had a great time. The car was
awesome. You’re awesome. Airplanes are awesome. Life is awesome. I
hope you have a great day.” I didn’t even recognize myself. It was like a
ventriloquist had his hand up my shirt and was making my mouth move
and was saying things for me. This certainly didn’t sound like the old
version of Bob talking. And you know what? It wasn’t. It was a bucket
filled with patience doing the talking.
I had missed my plane—by a lot. I got out of the car with my bucket
and started walking to the terminal to book a new flight. I had walked
halfway across the parking lot when the rental-car guy came running up
from behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. A little winded, he said
to me, “Hey, I just want you to know”—he paused to catch his breath
before continuing—“that was a great sermon you gave at church.”
You were there? I thought as I held back a gasp.
Oh man, if he only knew what was going on in my head while I was
sitting in line before I remembered my bucket in the passenger seat.
We can pretend to have all the game we want to up on stage, in the
pulpit, on the field, at work, or in our faith communities. But it’s how we
engage with the rental-car attendant or the grocery bagger or the bank
teller or the person who puts on the car tires that lets everybody know
where we really are with Jesus. I still get it wrong more than I get it right,
but I was so grateful I had filled my bucket with the right stuff that day.
All the words and emotions that otherwise would have spewed out of me
would have shattered this guy and shown me for the impatient, selfish
guy I’m still trying to put on the bus.
People will figure out what we really believe by seeing what we
actually do. Everybody has a plan, but God is looking for people who
know their purpose. As often as I try to make it look otherwise, most of
the time I make everything about me. I make it about my schedule and
my timing, how I’m feeling and how big of a hurry I’m in. Kind of like