a mile and half, with a cotton hoe.

It's when people have stopped calling you out on what they know you can do better, it's when they have stopped challenging you, they have ceased to push you...it is then that you're in a bad place. It means that where they once believed you could rise to the occasion, they no longer have hope. It is then that you're in a bad place.

I thought a lot about that on the walk back home. A mile and half or so of thinking -who in my life rebuttals me? Who listens and says - actually...no? Who pulls me aside and whispers - really?
Moreso, it was also a mile and a half of - so when am I that person? When is right to say something, and when is it best to wait? There's scripture about this too...specks and planks and what not. I'm not sure I'd like to mess with that.

Well...I would. But, how?

What gives me the right to say - you could do better, when... am I?
Maybe this catch 22 is healthy all around if it makes me look myself in the mirror more often before calling court. Opening my eyes wider and leaning in to find things like planks obstructing my view.
And it also says things like - do unto others as you'd have them do to you. So, back at square one? I'm not convinced.
He talked about friends and roommates; he said it again- you're in a bad place when they give up calling you out.
I think I mostly thought about that.
Have others ever given up on me?
Have I ever given up on others?
Have I thought - I did the best I could?

Because,
then he pulled it in and said: He never gives up hope for us.
Never.

It was humbling.
Not to mention the overwhelming notion of grace that inevitably followed.


Next to my bed is a gold framed piece of paper that says: pray without ceasing.
And I think that's what it must come down to.
That just maybe prayer can be conviction. That conviction is refining and in that refining process, perhaps inspiring?
So. We pray. And in that prayer comes a renewed sense of self, and perhaps a renewed sense of love-for others. The right kind of love.

I love you and therefore I push you. Raise the bar. Raise an eyebrow.
But, what's the goal of it all?
To say that we did our best? To boost our pride?
Perhaps, to serve.
To constantly serve.
To both pray and to serve, without ceasing.
I think that's in there somewhere too.