Another look in the mirror (it still ain't pretty)

We've lived in this house for over eight years now. We've slowly gotten to know our neighbors over the years, but the sad fact is that some of them have lived here longer than we have and I've only taken the time to get to know them over the last few months.

We have this one lady on our street who is a talker. Sweet, sweet lady. But she's a talker. The first day we were here, I was in a hurry to get Amanda to a volleyball game and Janet came running over to our car to introduce herself. When we were leaving, we had a half-hour before the game started with about a ten minute drive ahead of us. We hardly said a word and we were still fifteen minutes late! Of course, we learned a lot about Janet and the history of the neighborhood that day. Unfortunately, we let that scar us into avoiding her, and over the years, the only time I've talked to her is if she happens to see me. Sure enough, I (or anyone else in my family) woulde be stuck for at least a half-hour, and even then the only way the conversation would end would be for me to say "Bye" at least five times and keep walking.

I apologize for the blunt tone; to try and put any of that nicely would be an insult to Janet and a lie to God and y'all because there was absolutely nothing nice about the way I've acted these last eight years.

However, the Lord gave me a view from the other end of that mirror recently. Lately, I've been a pest to people, and not in the good way I wrote about earlier (meaning when I get together with people, I always end up doing most-if-not-all of the talking, and barely letting anyone else get a word in edgewise). I started thinking about Janet and how I was pretty much getting a taste of my own medicine.

I'm having a neighborhood campfire next Friday night and have all the invitations delivered except one (Jake, I'm gonna get yours to you this weekend, I promise! You guys are definitely invited!). I approached Janet's house with no small amount of trepidation, but I wanted to show God that the lesson He tried to teach me was not in vain.

Sure enough, Janet answered the door and off she went! Let me tell you right now about what a wonderful feeling it was to stand there, listen, maybe say a few words every now and then, and above all to GET OVER MYSELF. I mean, I still had to end the conversation (had to get home, make dinner, get back up to work for a few hours); but not once did I wish I wasn't right there talking/listening (actually, more listening than talking, but then I need that. A LOT!)

God, thank you for being patient with me, for giving me a second chance, and for allowing me to see You in yet another unlikely place. Thank you for forgiving me, because I sure need it for this one and deserve it even less than I usually deserve Your forgiveness (which is to say, not at all).

In Him and around the corner (and all ears),

Al