Saturday, November 30, 2013

The Qualified

The final community screening of Destiny's Bridge was worthy of celebration. The film was followed by several hours of musical entertainment, courtesy of Tent City residents, alumni, and supporters. I was honored to be among them.

The song I sang proclaimed that "I'll be the change that I want to see...let it begin with me..."

And so it does. With...me.

With the person who has never pitched a tent, never been camping, never slept outdoors save for the time I spent the night with my daughter on the sidewalks of New York City so she could see her favorite boy band.

With the stifled, spoiled, coddled, overprotected, angry child - and who grew up and avowed never to become a lazy, entitled, self-absorbed, angry adult.

With the person whose only salvation from her own moods was channeling them into creative vessels of music, the written word, anywhere they were safe from judgment or ridicule - only to find that when it comes to trusting people with your emotions, you're never truly safe...

Whose religious background ran a convoluted gamut of indoctrination, zealotry, and doubt. Whose family is more reminiscent of Jersey Shore or Real Housewives than Little House on the Prairie. Who lived abroad and adopted a new language and a new culture for a time, if only to supplant the roots to which I never could draw any real sustenance.

Who eats too much and moves too little, whose dreams are many but whose actions are few, and who spends too much time relying on technology and not enough relying on people.

Here I am reporting for duty, but feeling completely unqualified.

And that, my friends, is the beauty of it.

That some of us arrived at the wooded crossroads of destiny from one side, battered from the bumps in the road. Some arrive broken from slipping one too many times on the black ice of a well-paved, well-worn path. Some tumbled from the top of the high mountain, and others crawled from the valley of death toward the nearest light.

And we all ask the same question, "what can I do, whoever I am, wherever I'm from, with whatever I have?"

Ever hear the story of the water bearer with the cracked pot? It goes like this:

A waterbearer in India had two large pots, one hung on each end of a pole, which she carried across her neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it. While the other pot was perfect, and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the mistress's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to her master's house.
The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream: "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."
Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your mistress's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in her compassion she said, "As we return to the mistress's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some.

But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.
flower pot2

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?

“That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them.

“For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my mistress's table. Without you being just the way you are, she would not have this beauty to grace her house."

Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots.

But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. We've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them.

And remember: Moses stuttered, Jacob was a cheater, Peter had a temper, David had an affair, Noah got drunk, Jonah ran away from God, Rahab was a prostitute, Paul was a murderer, Gideon was insecure, Isaiah preached naked, Miriam was gossiper, Martha was a nervous wreck, Mary was lazy, Thomas was a doubter, Sarah was impatient, Elijah was depressed, Zaccheus was short, Abraham was old and Lazarus was dead.

God does not call the qualified; He qualifies the called.

Let it begin.

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