Mittie

One of the most delightful parishioners from my old pastoring days was Mittie, a diminutive little elderly woman who lived alone with her beagle, JJ. She ran a very successful tailoring business from her small, simple home less than a ten minute walk from the church.

To say Mittie was unique would be an understatement. One of her quirks was that she refused to watch any news or weather broadcasts, claiming that they were always either frightening or depressing or both, and that there wasn’t anything she could do about any of it anyway. She didn’t have a clue about crime statistics in our city or neighborhood, and only knew the weather was going to be bad when, well . . . when it was bad!

And she happened to be one of the most perennially happy people I’ve ever known.

I should point out that this was back in the 80s when the only news that was available in the first place was from one of three networks, and even then only in the early morning, at midday and in the evening, and the only way to get news to us was through the television or the radio. We weren’t bombarded 24-7-365 back then like we are today via multiple cable news outlets, talk radio, satellite radio, and the internet.

Unlike Mittie, if we aren’t careful we can let ourselves get completely consumed by the constant, negative news culture, start thinking that things are so much worse today than they’ve ever been, that evil is winning, that the world is coming to an end, and that politics is more partisan than at any time in history . . . none of which could be further from the truth. It just happens that technology has made it possible for us to instantly know literally every tragic happening on the planet, and even on the moon for that matter. (http://www.nbcnews.com/health/heart-health/deep-space-radiation-caused-heart-problems-apollo-astronauts-n618116)

I recently read an article by Sarah Skwire (https://fee.org/articles/gone-fishing/) and she reminds us that in the middle of some of the greatest upheavals in British history (England’s Second Civil War), retired ironmonger Izaak Walton walked away from London’s craven feuding and wrote a book about fishing, The Compleat Angler. It was an immediate hit, and it’s been printed and reprinted scores of times over the past 360 plus years, and is still in print to this very day. What could possibly make such a simple treatise of such a common activity so popular when so many more “important” things were happening in the English government?

It’s really not hard, is it? Like Mr. Walton and his readers, we need to get our minds around what truly is important, and it isn’t the never ending news cycle, the electoral process, or Washington DC. It’s your spouse, your kids, those adorable grandkids, your friends, your neighbors, and Washington isn’t going to do anything to make any of those lives better; but you can! 

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it dozens of times; “I’m so afraid for my children’s and grandchildren’s future.” Well, I’m not, because I’ve personally invested (and am investing) my values, my time, and my energy into their present, and I am perfectly contented to leave their future to God and the loving guidance and example my wife and I have been. The Wise Man said it this way; “Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it.” (Proverbs 22:6 NLT)

So turn off the technology, ignore the empty promises of power hungry politicians, kiss your spouse, hug your kids, spend lots of time with your grandkids, know your neighbors and keep a watchful eye on them without being nosey about it. Live right, tell your stories, and teach the lessons life has taught you.

Be intentional . . .  and let’s go a’fishing!

The Auto Bell Work Ethic

Less than a mile north of my kids’ place in Asheville, North Carolina is a very busy full service Auto Bell car wash. (I’m always wanting to call it Taco Bell for some reason or other, but it’s definitely Auto Bell.) I like it because they not only run it through the automatic soap – rinse – wax – wheel bright – spot rinse – dryer stages, but they start out the whole procedure with a quick vacuuming and rubbish removal.

But those aren’t the biggest reasons I love this particular car wash. The real reason I love this Taco Bell . . . er, uh, Auto Bell . . . is because when the car has been run through the entire cycle, they’re still not done! Truth be told, in the spirit of the late, great Karen Carpenter, God rest her soul, “They’ve Only Just Begun.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__VQX2Xn7tI ) The white lace and promises are still ahead!

As soon as The Beast rolls out the front door, a Finisher (my term) jumps behind the wheel, drives it forward for a few yards, and then the real work begins; hand drying everything the super-blow dryer didn’t get, wash the windows inside and out, dust off the dash and seats, and yet another, more thorough vacuuming. This is business as usual at the Asheville Auto Bell. Pretty impressive, eh? But something happened on my last visit that exceeded even this impressive bit of Auto Bell’s version of business as usual.

My usual tip for the final, and only non-robotic phase is $3.00. I have no idea why. It just is. Well, I was standing at my usual post waiting for, and watching the young man that was my car’s Finisher. As is their customary routine, he starts hand drying everything the super-blow dryer missed which, surprisingly enough, are really quite a lot of nooks and crannies in not so obvious places until you see the water pooling on, or dripping from them. But then he does around the entire car again, hitting a water droplet here, and a water smear from round one there. Then he wipes every spoke on the wheels, not just the “normal” quick wipe-down, but a careful drying, almost polishing of each surface.

I reach in my pocket and grab another dollar out of my wallet.

Then, as usual, he crawls inside, wiping down the dash and whatever else they wipe down out of eye-shot. What’s unusual is that he’s in there quite a bit longer than I remember from past visits.

I reach in my pocket and grab another dollar out of my wallet.

Once a Finisher crawls out of the front seat, s/he usually will simply pop the front seat forward do a quick wiping down of the seats and a quick vacuuming. Not this guy. He crawls into the very tiny space the manufacturer calls a back seat and carefully wipes down the seats, side panels, back window, backs of the front seats, and only God knows what else he did back there. He sure didn’t take a nap!

I reach in my pocket and exchange my five ones for a five dollar bill and a one.

Okay, so he finally crawls out of the back seat (and this is a really big guy, almost a head taller than I am) and I start to head out the door . . . but wait, he gets his window spray out and strategically hits the windows again. Not the whole windows all over again, mind you, but a shot here, and a shot there. My presumption is that he saw flaws from the inside that needed touching up, so being the obvious perfectionist he is, he touches everything up.

By now I am standing there in stunned amazement. Once he appears to be finished with his window spot check, he stands back and I begin to move forward once again . . . but wait! He’s still not finished!!

He does a complete walk-around, mopping up a water droplet here, touching up an invisible smudge there, and taking yet another stab or two at the wheels. (No one EVER takes more than one look at the wheels.)

I reach in my pocket and exchange my fiver and one for a ten dollar bill as he waves to me, signaling that he is finally satisfied with his work. Not only do I happily hand him the ten dollar bill, I shower him with praise for his excellent work ethic, and remind him (or perhaps inform him for the first time) that with this kind attention to detail, he will probably own the place one of these days.

At the very least, he won’t be washing cars much longer!

Perception versus Reality

If I were to have business cards printed with the presidential seal embossed in the background announcing me as the President of these United States, rode around in a black limousine, and waved at everyone when I got on and off airplanes, would that make me the President of these United States? If I were to rent office space in the Huntington Building in downtown Columbus, Ohio and put a sign on the door that said “President”, would that in fact make me the president of Huntington Bank? (Move over, Steve Steinour!)

                The answer to both of these questions is, of course, a resounding NO, and the obvious reason that it is NO, is that I don’t do anything other than the above described window dressings that would remotely imply that I’m the president of anything! My problem would be that there is no substance or truth in my window dressings. I not only wouldn’t fool very many people with my delusions of grandeur, most people would probably think I’d lost my mind!

                Or would they?

                Occasionally in our administrative meetings, depending upon the topic of the moment, a friend and colleague of mine has been known to say something like, “That may be true, Rob, but remember that perception is reality.” I really hate it when he says that, but in a marketing sense of the word, I understand what he means . . . but in Realville, perception is NOT reality! Perception is merely someone’s idea of reality, but not necessarily reality itself. For example, take that convex mirror hanging on your vehicle door that says, “OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR.” The verbose Hartman translation of that little warning is, “Be careful, doofus, that semi you’re about to cut off may appear to be 100 yards behind you, but in reality it’s right on your bumper, so watch out!”

Not only is perception not reality, in this case perception can be downright lethal. But then again, how many of us ignore the etched warning and pull over anyway, only to hear that piercing air horn blast fear into our very souls? What’s even worse, most of the time we get mad at the professional truck driver for blasting the air horn and possibly saving our life.

                I fear that somehow we’ve become a people driven more by our emotions, by the-way-we’ve-always-done-it, by anger, by jealousy, by prejudice, or by any other number of provocations that create perceptions in our hearts and minds, instead of any strong desire for truth or reality. It reminds me of the story found in the Bible in John chapter 9.

A man, blind from his birth, was clearly healed by Jesus (in a rather unorthodox manner, I might add, even for Jesus . . . you’ve just got to read that story) yet scores of people refused to believe it! Those that did believe it either didn’t want to believe it, or were too afraid of crossing the conventional wisdom of the moment to admit it, yet there he was, standing right there in front of them.

After a rather lengthy back and forth between the poor guy and the skeptics, they ended up throwing him out of their religious club. Why? Because he was brave enough to give them a reality check and tell them the truth.

Amazing!

Later, Jesus drove the truth even more deeply home when he told the religious bigots that they were, in fact, more blind that the guy he had healed. You can imagine how well these people, all caught up in their own perception of reality, took that!

Wait a minute. WE DO KNOW!

They crucified him.

What do you do when Jesus messes with your private reality?