The air was crisp and cold; it stung your lungs a little if you drew too deep a breath. The walk was a little over a mile there and back across uneven sidewalks precariously lifted by immense trees expansively extending their underground roots and strewn with freshly fallen damp leaves. Still, the payoff of this cold and fiddly hike would be worth any effort I could muster.
When I’m in Louisville, KY, I occasionally frequent a quaint breakfast spot that offers a decent cup of coffee and a nice selection of baked artisan vittles. It’s also important to note, at this point, that I’m an “I don’t skip breakfast, and must have protein (as in meat)” kind of guy in the morning. I welcome carbs too, but I need something dense–flesh that must be torn with teeth–alongside eggs, baked bread, pancakes, waffles, and/or oatmeal.
Well, this morning, as I previously mentioned, was bitter cold. There was no escaping it, and the walk, though a means to a satisfying end, would hurt more than usual.
Off I went, dressed in nice clothes and all. In the cold early morning, I made my way toward the setting of a hot cup of coffee and a warm croissant garnished with cheese, fried eggs, and sausage; my discomfort was giving way to the anticipation of delightful culinary gratification.
Finally, I arrived. I entered through the door, my feet feeling the comforting tap of a wooden floor, my senses heightened to the delightful smells of freshly baked bread and the warmth of a proficiently useful furnace. The painful memories of walking through the cold were enveloped by the joy of knowing an agreeable experience would soon introduce itself. I scanned the aptly presented offerings and proceeded toward the cash register.
However, just as the words for my order were about to fall from my lips, I realized the unthinkable had just occurred. I reached back, feeling my pocket in quiet desperation, knowing all the while the impending disappointment.
It wasn’t there. My pocket was empty. No wallet. There I was with the potential of breakfast pleasure looming before me with all its sights and smells and an empty chair and table awaiting my presence, but I had no money. I could not, no matter how hard I tried, will my wallet into my possession. I was there, in that breakfast nook, and my wallet–the means and key to satiating my hunger pangs–was clearly and evidentially not.
All this realization happened in milli-seconds as I glanced up at the patiently onlooking waitress. And then, the thought crosses my mind, “Perhaps she sees that I’m a victim of forgetfulness and will offer me a free coffee and a hot and satisfying breakfast?” As soon as this dejected thought entered one side of my noggin, I swept it briskly across the other end and returned it to its place back in the hopeless world of victimity–a place I knew was not for me.
I accepted my lot and resolvingly uttered, “I left my wallet. Sorry.” She smiled an empathetic slanting smile and slightly nodded her head. All at once, we both knew I was not having breakfast and a cup of Joe.
Then I–with a mix of frustration, self-justification, and guilt–sauntered out. Back into the cold. Back up on the sidewalks with protruding edges and decomposing leaves. Back bound to my thoughts and world of processing the letdown that had just occurred.
I left my wallet back in my vehicle! The cold truck in the cold weather possessed my wallet, not me!
Can you believe it?!
At that point, I had a decision to make:
- I can walk back, not return to this breakfast spot, and instead get mediocre coffee and a carb-only pastry on the SBTS campus.
- I can walk back, drive my truck to this breakfast spot, and enjoy a warm protein meal and coffee there.
- I can walk to my truck, turn around, walk back to the breakfast spot, and enjoy a warm protein meal and coffee there.
No option was good. All three presented me with the fact that I had to face the cold again and walk through it–dress clothes, dress shoes, and a sport coat and all! Ugh!
Can anyone relate to the frustration of forgetting something that prevented you from getting something else you desired?
Man. I wanted warmth, hot coffee, and a breakfast (with protein) sandwich that morning before my seminar. However, to get there now, I would have to face my forgetfulness endured in the cold and try not to kick myself in the process!
I chose the third option. I chose it because I didn’t want the easy way out. It was my fault that I left my wallet, so I wanted to take the hard path to open the potential for the lesson to sink in a little more–face the elements head-on again, dress clothes and all, and embrace my mistake with a sense of humor. As humbling as it was, responsibility was squarely going to be put on my shoulders. I would bear that mistake and seek to learn from it with a full heart.
So I returned to my vehicle and tried my best to redeem the time!
As I turned down the first street, I encountered a flock of geese. They honked and flew right past me as I traversed the sidewalks in the cold. Looking back, I learned a lesson as I remembered the peculiarity of migrating geese.
- Geese fly in formation because they are one unit.
- The maverick lone-ranger goose is a dead goose.
- Lesson: be diligent in maintaining unity within the community around you.
- Geese honk as they fly to locate and encourage one another.
- Geese flourish in community because they encourage each other.
- Lesson: build community through encouragement.
- Geese don’t have only one goose doing all the work.
- No one goose is singled-out to bear the brunt of wind cutting through the sky.
- Lesson: you cannot do it all and must delegate leadership (both responsibility and authority).
Before I knew it, I was at my vehicle. I grabbed my wallet and started walking back toward the restaurant. Cold but satisfied that I took the more challenging path.
Now, crossing the threshold a second time into the warmth and smells of breakfast, I placed my order with sufficient funds to meet my desires. Able to enjoy the food and the book I had selected for that morning, I considered the reality that God is a persistent teacher through my mistakes.
A delightful day bound up–not in the forgetting–but on the dwelling upon God’s care for me despite me.
“Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:13-14
— December 1, 2022