Be Kind

          Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:31-32)

          I’ve started reading Love as A Way of Life, by Gary Chapman. Today’s chapter was on developing the habit of kindness. He says, “Kindness means noticing someone else and recognizing his needs. It means seeing the value in every person we meet.” (p. 16) Someone else described kindness as lending someone your strength.

          Noticing other people’s needs? Half the time, I barely notice other people. I set out this spring with the goal of waving at the drivers of cars as they come toward me. I’m still doing it (which is kind) but I can’t tell you how many times my brain has kicked in with, “Um, Karen, that was a car that just passed you.” I’m the person who can walk by my sister and her young son and think, “Cute kid, looks familiar.” Sometimes, it’s like I have blinders on – my mind is so focused on this task, and that problem, and another idea or three, and on myself. People? Are there really people out there? And they have needs? Wow! Who’d have thought? I’ve tried to explain at least part of this to people before. As likely as not, after steamrolling over you because you stood between me and my goal, I’ll turn around and say, “What are you doing on the floor and why do you look like a pancake?” It would be so nice if a nice big green arrow appeared over the heads of the people I am supposed to help.

          Since I’m handicapped in this “noticing” part, a teaching from Brother Lawrence’s Practicing the Presence of God is comforting. He wrote that when he noticed that his mind had wandered, he simply brought it back to the subject with no recriminations. It would be overwhelming if we actually noticed all the needs of everyone around us. That’s not the goal. But if we do notice and there is something that we can do Scripture tells us we are to act. If we refuse, we’re not only being unkind, we’re being rebellious.

          Three foundational principles of the emergency response classes I’ve taken come to mind. If we can help, we are obligated to help. In fact, lots of emergency response and medical folks don’t advertise it with a sticker on their car because otherwise they’d be overwhelmed with obligations to help. But as a Christian, if you can help, you should.

          Secondly, our help is not to exceed our training. Only heart surgeons are expected to do heart surgery and only bomb experts are expected to disarm explosives. Not only are we not to go beyond our training to protect the well-being of the person to whom we’re trying to be kind but also to protect ourselves and the Church. It would be kind of me to teach someone else what I know about making jam (as little as that is.) It would not be kind of me to volunteer to put in a new door, and if I did so in the name of God, people would justifiably think me a poor handyman and associate that miserable failure with the Church.

          The other side of that is that we have many opportunities in life to learn new ways in which to kind to others. We can prepare. One way to prepare is to figure out something you can do, particularly something that is not specific to a person or a currently recognized need. That’s part of this summer’s education. I’m trying to learn to do things that are meant to help me but if I learn them, I can use them to help others.

          Decades ago, my father started scavenging while he walked. If he saw a tennis ball, a golf ball, coins, or other stuff that he thought useful, he’d pick it up and bring it home. Somewhere along the line, I started doing this, too. Along the way, I started taking pictures and noticed litter ruining the images I wanted to take. It came to mind that if I could scavenge good stuff, I could pick up litter. Later, I figured out that if I could pick up litter, I could pick up newspapers thrown in the yard and deliver them to a door.

I know of other people who move papers from the yard to the doorstep of their friends. That’s fine. I only mention it because it seems to me that they go from the person to the need in their kindness, while I seem to skip the person and respond to the need. Both ways work.