Compli-meant…part 2…

On the eve of a blog that solicited far more of an intense reaction than I anticipated  (although, not much more), I feel it necessary to try and clarify as well as answer some of the collective questions about “Compli-meant.”

Even after I get done reading it, I sat and asked myself (trying to put myself in the reader’s shoes)…so now what? Many of you Seminary ladies have been articulating a personalized response to the ‘Compli-meant’ blog entry…which I find extremely interesting for a number of reason, two of which however capture my attention most:

1.) You are either confused or upset at thinking you have been guilty of this less-than-completely-honest way of interaction, and have come to me either through the grapevine or directly asking me how to do it right, if you did it wrong.

2.) The very fact that this has solicited such a personalized response from so many women thus far tells me, and I could be wrong about this, (I’m kind of an idiot at times) that you felt the way you did (confused, frustrated and/or guilty) that you take this so personal because you have in fact been doing something wrong.

Let me just dispense with the pleasantries. As I reflect on every single person I’ve ever come into considerable contact with… we ALL have not been as honest as we should and could be with others. All of us! Honesty is in every way an attribute of the glory of God…and we all fall short!

So yes, women, you have done this…if not to me, and not some other guy on this campus, then to someone else in your life at some point. I do it. I did it today for crying out loud. I’ll tell you what though…I know I had a tough time today as I ruminated on the idea of my interactions, as they were happening even. I had to be so incredibly intentional with everything I did. It was tough! But given the pain that comes only ever on the other side of letting this dishonesty simmer and eventually get swept under the rug, I will happily self-check every little thing I do. Christ sees to everything I do, should I not.

before yesterday…Our interactions, at times, felt more like poison than Providence.

I say felt more like poison than Providence, because today, as I joked with many of you at lunch with our completely over the top, “Is this good for your heart comments”…we all seemed to be a little bit more of Christ.

But back to what everyone wants to know…including me…HOW DO WE FIX THIS?

Compli-meant…

me: “How are you doing today?”

girl: “I’m good.”

me: “Why are you good?”

girl: “wha…umm…what do you…what do you mean?”

This was a recent interaction I had with a girl here on my campus, here at Multnomah Biblical Seminary. This verbal double-take has almost become something I expect to hear as I ask that crazy unexpected inquiry of “why.”

If you’re wondering where this trait came from, it’s simple…it’s the response that almost every one of us as kids resorted to while growing up: the “why” question… (us wanting answers to our world). It also found me, in the most incessant exchange of hellos, in the grocery store of all places, (the greatest restaurant ever), where the check-out girl took the two extra seconds it takes to say those magical words…and…with eyes that made me believe she actually wanted a real response to her why…I said something so very true:

 ”Well…I’m good…because you asked me why.”

So, from childhood to the Safeway checkout girl teaching me life lessons, I now make it a point of freaking people out…I mean…loving on people in this way. (Grin) You wouldn’t imagine the number of warm looks I get while venturing so far outside of the traditional realm of your most basic salutations.

Last week, it was Walmart’s beautiful, elderly, blue-eyed greeter Edna, who reminded me why I will never not ask the follow-up, ”why.” Her eyes actually welled up as we, wonderfully and together, held up the line for a good 5 seconds after I had grabbed my bags, which is where she had grown numb to expecting everyone to be done with her.

Those 5 seconds of tears came from asking her, “So…do you have a long day of work left ahead of you?” She answered, with the tiniest quiver in her voice, which sounded like a stutter unless you were able to see what I saw, which was just loud enough to cancel out the obviously disgruntled rude exhale coming from three deep in the now stalled line…

“As a matter of fact, I just got here…but it’ll be better if people stop treating me like a machine every once and a while.”

I had to say it…”Edna, Jesus will never think you a machine…(haha), He won’t huff and puff in line either (sharing in a small laugh with her at the still  agitated gentleman). Then, with that, I’m-going-to-give-you-a-cookie-grandma-grin, Edna’s blue eyes lit up probably even my face from their revival, as she said…