Tuesday, March 01, 2011

(Not) Giving blood

I want to be good. My childhood days were plagued with the pursuit of being good. Praise and adoration were high on my "things to get" list. Christmas presents? Nah. Just tell me how great I am. Smile and pat my head even. Thanks.

However, you can't be "good" all the time. Trust me. I know. The problem with trying is you get caught in a cycle. Making one person happy leads to making more people happy. I end up being a proverbial affirmation-whore; you don't care who it comes from and you want it all the time. Days are spent in a fury of activity to solicit positive attention. Because of this my 7th grade year was a nightmare. If you have ever read You Are Special I should tell you - Max Lucado wrote it about me.

Now let's fast forward 23 years (I can't believe I just admitted that) to this past Friday when I agreed, out of a genuine desire to see an old friend, to attend a blood drive she organized.

I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. I don't like needles. Blood I don't mind. But needles? Searching for my vein? Not so much. But I was willing to endure the pinch, the sting, and the prodding for several reasons:

1. See my friend
2. Help her out
3. Do "good"
4. Get a pat on the head

Funny thing about intentions though; unless you actually ACT on them they stay forever immortalized as intentions.

After arriving at the blood drive I quickly discovered that you weren't getting in the door without signing your life blood away. Forced to put my name on the waiting list, I was given a number like a shopper at the deli counter. 48. I looked over to see 34 impatiently tapping her toes. Unfortunately I only had a 20 minute window of time. I didn't realize blood drives would be so popular!

So I did what anyone would have done ... pretended to wait. I mingled, chatted with a few people (including my friend), ate a cookie, munched on some popcorn, drank some juice, and quietly walked out the back door when no one was looking.

That's right. I'm a blood-drive crasher.

In summary:
1. I saw my friend
2. Helped myself out
3. Did "bad"
4. Got a few horns on my head

Is this what I've become? Incapable of carving out time? Unwilling to give a few drops of blood?

Apparently.

And this theme is familiar these last few weeks. Deep in the midst of a project, the slightest interruption sends me reeling in frustration. Snapping at the person who dare speak to me! Those moments don't slip by unnoticed. Not by me and I'm sure not by him (sorry hubby). And certainly not by the One who created me to be in relationship with people, neighbors, co-workers, FAMILY.

I was reminded tonight that Jesus was interrupted. A lot.

So I'm praying for patience. For the ability to hold my sharp glances and short temper and acknowledge that YOU are more important than paperwork, plans, and projects. I'd like the "good" I do to please God. Everyone else can go to


the blood drive.

2 comments:

Kathleen Moulton said...

Well.

How come I didn't know this blog existed?

Anyway, are we sisters? 'Cuz I grew up the same way.

'Cept I will follow through 99% of the time if it kills me. The worst thing in the world for me is to let someone down. I guess that's because I don't like to be let down.

That said, I've mellowed. That comes with age. I now get my pat on the head from God. He and I have an "in" (finally! after 35 years!)

By the way, don't pray for patience. God puts you through the impatience and as you respond patiently when you don't want to (you know, the old crucifying the flesh), one day you will wake up and realize how much patience you have. When you do what you don't want to do, God mysteriously imparts something of Him in us.

Glad to find your blog.

Huh. I've never given blood.

: )

Ricky said...

My life is a bog of slow burning good intentions...