Yesterday, while working at the Mud Hens game, a few of us volunteered to head over to another stand because they were shorthanded and we could spare the manpower. This marked the first time, to my recollection (which isn't that good, my mother corrected me about how she did kiss my bumps and scratches growing up — sorry, Mom!) that I was not on register at a game where we worked a stand. Though I had done minor "running" for myself when needed, I'd never been a full time one. So today I ran. But I didn't just run, I ran with the strength and motivation of seven angry vikings who just entered a Taco Bell, only to discover the person they'd held the door for when they arrived had purchased the last available Chalupa. It was epic. I filled cups of pop three, four, and five at a time. I taped down taps to fill beers while I collected hot dogs, fries, and hot chocolate for three registers at once, tossing the contents perfectly onto trays during mid sprint like some sort of Olympic paper boy. Perhaps my greatest feat of the day, though, was that I actually poured coffee for people. Yes, I contributed to the coffee consumption of the world... Just please don't tell my mother, I haven't forgiven myself yet.
Okay, I feel better. Sometimes the randomness just builds up in my head and I have to get it out, so I appreciate you indulging me. Now how about we get to the serious stuff?
In my quest to dislodge the part of me that is concerned about what others think of me, I've noticed how it runs far deeper than I'm always aware. Sometimes, it even pokes its head up in the most bizarre ways.
Most of you know I'm not a big "Save the Planet, Eco Rights" kind of guy. I'm all about being responsible and think Recycling is great, but that's about the extent of my "Going Green." However, for whatever reason, whenever I see trash on the ground I always feel compelled to pick it up. I don't remember my parents instilling that desire or habit in me, (forgive me if I'm mistaken on that Mom and Dad — again) but for as long as I can remember it has always been there. A lot of times I obey that thought, but many times I don't. And it's the reason I typically don't that strikes me as a bit enlightening to my inner doubts.
Many times I won't pick up some trash, especially if it's a non wholesome item, because I'm worried someone may look over and see me with it and assume it was mine to start with. Or worse, that I'd tossed it recklessly aside, and then decided to pick it up out of guilt or being caught in the act. Sounds a little stupid, right? But it shows the power people's perception can have over me. My image has more importance than a greater cause. Would my picking up every bit of trash I see save the planet? No, but every little bit helps and everyone can agree it would certainly be at least of some benefit.
Often times it's those small stands that can inspire greater deeds from others. When you see someone else stand up and stand out for something you believe in, it can give you the courage to do the same. I wonder how many times in our days we hold our tongues, restrain our hand, and hold back our hearts from "picking up trash" that could give others in our work places, our classes, and our families the courage and nudge they need to follow suit. I wonder how many people are in need of someone, anyone, to let them know they're not alone, that those feelings they have deep down telling them to do the right thing are shared by others, too. I wonder how many opportunities we've passed up to spark a little fight in someone else because we let public perception dictate our actions.
Take some time to look at your days and see if there is any more "trash" you can pick up, realizing God can take the smallest seed and make it the greatest plant in the garden.
Brett "It's too bad you can't recycle terrible school pictures... I have an 8th grade bowl cut that really needs to be turned into something useful" Hibbler
