Slow down there, partner.

I like to get to work before Miss Jewel gets up. I'll admit it, I have some control issues. I like to be able to get things ready and not be rushed. I have a routine and if Miss Jewel is up first then I am serenaded with sighs because my ways are not her ways and therefore they are not the right ways. (Insert my own sigh.)

Typically, I get things all set out and ready and then if I have the animals fed, the floor swept, the window washed, the flag out, and the porch swept, I can sit down and wait. As soon as I hear Miss Jewel stirring I turn on the kettle and wait some more. When I hear the bathroom light go off, I pop up and get ready to pour her coffee and make her toast.

But sometimes, she fools me. I pop up to the ready and she doesn't emerge from her bedroom. I stand there waiting. Ready. Waiting. Yesterday was a waiting and waiting morning. Three times I heard the bathroom light. Three times I popped up to the ready. Three time I stood there waiting. As I waited, I found myself getting antsy and a bit irritated--and I didn't like the feeling.

Sit down, Tina. Relax. She'll come out when she's ready. The woman is 86. Is it that important that she keep a schedule? Especially, your schedule? Ick. I sure didn't like the way that felt.

I thought about this some more as I drove home after work. I was on the outer road around town. (It's too small to call a bypass, but that's the function it serves.) I got behind a compact car that was in no particular hurry to get anywhere. I was in no hurry either so I just putted along behind her. Well, the gentleman (and I'm being gracious here) behind me appeared to thing that we were both certifiable. He obviously had very important places to be because at his first opportunity, he floored it and sped around both of us--only to be just one car length ahead of me (the compact turned off) at the very next light. I wonder if he felt as foolish as he appeared?

Remember the anthrax postal scare a few years back? I vividly remember one of the news commentators talking with a postal employee who stated that the general public really had very little to fear because they just weren't that important to poison. Something sunk in that day for me: I'm just not that important. I'm not so important that I have to speed around others (ok, unless it's a real emergency). I'm not so important that my schedule can't be set aside for the needs of another.

I think the early church got this. Luke records in Acts that after Pentacost the believers sold what they had and lived communially. They understood what it meant to be truly devoted to one another. What would it take for us to have that same attitude of commitment and devotion?

So slow down there, partner. Yield to your neighbor. Consider their agenda and their needs. It might save you some grief and shame.