Call to Action

When I heard the garbage truck
go by this morning I leapt to my feet. Battling the panic born of knowing that our can was overfilled with holiday excess, I slipped into my work Crocs and dashed out of the door with two sacks of trash clutched in my hands. Lifting the lid, I flung the bags into the can and forcefully crammed it back closed. Tilting the large plastic container back to it's center of gravity I bumped it across our side lawn to the curb in front of our maple tree. Then a quick glance toward our neighbor Dan's curb for the reassuring sight of white kitchen bags poking out the top of his bin.

We are actually quite lucky. The truck goes by in a Westerly direction before it comes back East past our house to dispose of our refuse. If you are home sitting lazily on the couch, thumbing through Facebook on your iPhone, the familiar rumble is a clear call to action. Hesitate and you will pay for it for the next week.

The garbage incident reminded me of when I was a kid. We would wait in the warmth and security of our house and watch for the school bus to go past our driveway. This was our signal to make the trek down the long blackberry lined driveway and catch the bus on it's way back toward Lacamas Heights Elementary School. We lived very near the end of the bus route and the bus would turnaround and be back with haste. We dared not tarry. You need not run, but, with the short legs (and attention span) of a third grader, the journey required decisive action. We knew what was required of us. Hesitate and we would feel the scorn of our parents and receive a black mark on our attendance record.

I have long been capable of clear and definitive action when there is an immediate need for it. I jump in, get dirty, spurn brake periods, and cast aside thoughts of self preservation. I can think on my feet and adapt to adverse conditions. When it is over and the built up adrenalin seeps out of my endocrine system, I truly enjoy the satisfying crash that tells me I have poured myself out and given one hundred percent.

The thing that continues to be just beyond my grasp is the right-headedness that would make me a planner and a better leader. I react to the situations that I fall into, but I struggle to find the proactive vein that would help keep me from getting in those situations in the first place.

All those years ago in Camas why didn't I plan on being at the end of the driveway when that big yellow bus went by the first time? I would not have had to cross the road to get on and I would have been assured a ride as I would have had two chances to be on board. Why is it that I never put my trash cans out the night before? Why do I routinely go into work with a weak menu plan and find myself in a "black box challenge" to come up with my specials for the day?

I do not think that I am a bad leader. I would like to believe that if God had placed me on the beaches of Normandy I could have marched into the fray and led by example. (Although truly we can never know that much). I think that am capable of inspiring those around me to dig deep and find the potential inside themselves. It is those things that can not be won by the grit of your teeth and the sweat of your brow that I find so fleeting.

My prayer is that I could be granted those qualities that are truly important. Things like wisdom and foresight. I have the knowledge of the kind of planning and over-arching themes that might give me an advantage in life. I am profoundly foolish when it comes to implementing those strategies in my life.


Whoever trusts in his own mind is a fool, but he who walks in wisdom will be delivered. (Proverbs 28:26 ESV)


- Posted from my iPhone