Hitchhiking 101

It had never occurred to me that hitchhiking was something for which we could train. What would we do? Attach some weights by string and do a few sets of thumb curls? Interestingly, the more reading Jeremy and I have done, the more evident it has become that hitchhiking is an art that involves many subtle nuances. In the spirit of developing our strategy, we went practice hitchhiking.

Some friends dropped us off about 60 miles away in Calhoun, Georgia. Georgians are amiable folks, so we made some good friends. The first guy who picked us up was a Vietnam Vet. (that's veteran...not veterinarian, although he does have horses) named Kenny (the man's name was Kenny, not the horses'...excuse my affinity for the parenthese). Kenny was a very patriotic man, one of those, I think, who rushed to buy ammunition last year when Russia encroached on Georgian soil. Since that time Kenny has been able to sort out some of his geographical misconceptions. He continues to serve his countrymen. We are indebted to Kenny for his service in our military, and for a ride to the north side of town.

We were surprised, for our next ride, to be picked up by two ladies. Leslie and her daughter Lynn were on their way to Dalton for an appointment with an optometrist. I thought it was brave (though reckless) of them to pick up two scruffy guys. When they pulled up Leslie rolled down the window and asked us if we had any "Nine's or 45's." We assured her of our weaponlessness, and she believed us. Evidently criminals in Georgia have a reputation for being honest about their intentions. Nice place, Georgia.

We made it most of the way back home before succumbing to the temptation to have a friend pick us up. Admittedly, it seems like two guys who claim they can make it all the way around the world by buses, trains, and hitchhiking, should have been able to make the 60 mile trip. There are some excuses that I consider relevant, but maybe it's better just to admit that we're soft. Honestly, the practice session leaves me daunted by the prospects of the real trip. But we'll get tougher. We're not overwhelmed, just whelmed.

Communication Is Everything?

Tara B. got me thinking about communication.  

It might be a reckless generalization to say that communication is everything, but I'll go ahead and say that communication is most things.  Communicating gets a lot of attention when it comes to mending relationships problem solving, and reconciling conflicting emotions.  This is a great part of communication, but somehow communicating in this way, while necessary when problems arise, might not be necessary as often if enough preventative communication (fancy term for talking) were taking place.  

Case in point:  Last night I made a plan for this morning and decided to return some gifts that were purchased with my mom's credit card.  My mom had asked me to return these items as this would be a big help to her.  I was happy to make the returns because I needed to go to those stores anyway.   Unfortunately I failed to mention my morning plans to my mom, and sadly, she also failed to tell me about her plans.  She's been here every morning for the last two weeks,  but that doesn't mean charges should be dropped.  I am quite guilty of assuming that she would be here this morning, which would have allowed me to take her credit card, which is necessary to return the items for anything besides an exchange within the store.  As you may have surmised, I awoke this morning to an empty house.  No mom, no credit card, no breakfast (but that's a different story),  and no way to carry out the plans that I had made.  Both my mother and I were inconvenienced.  Me because I had to switch around my day  -not a tragedy since I'm a student of adaptability- but it was still inconvenient.  The inconvenience to my mother is a lot greater than my own.  This was the last day I could have made the returns before going back to school, so now she will have to make a special trip to these stores with no other purpose than to get done what could have already been done if we had bothered to mention our plans to each other.  She has more than one bank card, so it would have been quite possible for both of us to accomplish what we had planned.

And now the philosophy:   It is good for relationships when we let the other participant in the relationship know what we're up to even if we don't perceive that it will make a difference in that persons planning.  It might be discovered, as in the case with my mom, that even though a change in the other person's plans was not perceived to be necessary as a result of the first person's plan,  a new plan or a bit of information could benefit both parties.  That benefit will remain undiscovered unless we communicate.  Let's plan together.  

I think you knew this already, but I wrote it down anyway.

If you actually read this, which evidently you do since  you're already here at the bottom.  I think you should have some input in the decision i'm making about what to write about next.  Should it be:

1.  Teamwork:  Me and the sewing lady.

2.  The Duct Taped Sandals That I'm Keeping 'til Jesus Comes

3.  Writing about what I think about Writing (hard to do but fun)

or just suggest something that you think you'd like to hear my thoughts on.  

Grandma's a Player

Once upon a time, when my grandmother was young, a would be suitor let her know that he was interested in holding her hand.  They were walking down a country road just then.  She didn't share the interest, but not wanting to hurt his feelings she cleverly found a solution in nature.  She stooped down, picked up a stick, and told the boy, "You can hang on to the other end of this stick if you like."    True Story. 

Reflections On Motivation

 Someone recently asked me what made me decide to spend a year as a student missionary.  I had to laugh at myself because I realized that if I had recognized my real motives before going, I would have had a really hard time raising the necessary money.  I can just imagine myself going to ask great aunt Thelma for some funds.  "Aunt Thelma" I would have said, looking at her with big eyes and using the tone of a most worthy great nephew, "Will you pay money so that I can go be a hero?  I want to go to Africa so that my friends will be impressed with me, will you give me some money?"  No, I’m not so sure aunt Thelma would have been so generous.  Of course looking back it is likely that she knew what really motivated me even though the words I chose to describe my goals sounded a lot Holier.  Luckily aunt Thelma knew that no matter what my reasons were, I needed to go.  And she sent me on my way with a check, and a wink. 

 My problem was that I was more interested in appearing to be a missionary, than I was in being a missionary.  God is pretty clever when it comes to people like me.  I'm not the first selfish person God has used.  Look at our friend Jacob from the book of Genesis.  That sneaky guy was determined to take his brother's place as the family patriarch; Jacob loathed the idea of being second to his brother.   So Jacob pulled off a dirty trick and took Esau's birthright.  God didn't have to use such an ill motivated individual to serve His purpose, but He did.   God used that very situation to help Jacob become one of the patriarchs in the bloodline of Jesus.    

 God knew that if I went to Africa and actually tried to share Jesus, and actually laid bricks and if I actually gave immunizations, and actually did work in His name, that His purpose would be served.  Some of His buildings would be built, some of his sick children would receive medication, and while I was busy doing this work I would realize some things about myself.  He knew that when I realized what my motives had been it would disgust me, and I would find new motivation to fall at his feet in submission.  He knew I would learn to mean what I say when I ask him to humble my prideful heart. 

I often find myself trying to decide whether or not to participate in certain missions or projects.  It is obvious to me that my motives fare often selfish.  In my experience choosing to act, regardless of the motives, has been a good thing.   People can benefit from my help even if I did it for the wrong reason.  What I get really excited about is the real change I can see in myself.  When I go and help people I witness the real needs that they have.  Somehow my motives get rearranged and I find myself doing things out of genuine goodwill towards others, and loving it.  Maybe that’s why he said go.