“C’mon, Gram, let’s run!” 4-year-old Sadie said as she was herding me upstairs to see her rock collection.
“I think I’ll walk. I’m not very good at running,” I said.
“Why not?” she asked.
Knowing my granddaughter didn’t need to hear my many tales of orthopedic woe, I said, “Because I’m kind of old.”
“Why are you old?”
“Because I’ve lived a lot of years. And if you live a lot of years, you end up old.”
Sadie stopped on the stairs, made a muscle with one of her arms and said, “Well, I’m not old ’cause look, my arms aren’t hangy yet.”
Her matter-of-fact statement wasn’t intended or received as an insult. I knew the “hangy arms” thing came from the week we recently spent at the beach with our kids and grandkids. That’s when Sadie and her also-4-year-old cousin, Margot, discovered the “hangy” skin under my arms and thought it was hilarious to make it jiggle.
If anyone else tried to sling my arm flab around, I’d probably bore a hole right through them with my best death stare, but it was definitely worth a little humiliation to hear Sadie and Margot giggle like they did. Oh, the things we grandparents do.
But that got me thinking. How hard do I try to lift the spirits of other people I encounter—people who aren’t my grandkids? And how different would this world be if we all viewed every interaction as an opportunity to make someone’s day better?
It could be as easy as a kind word to a store cashier or as taxing as walking closely alongside a friend who’s going through a tough time. It’s always going to require us to “not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).
There’s a theory called the “butterfly effect” that essentially says every action, no matter how small, starts a ripple that has the potential to become a tidal wave. I don’t think every smile or kind word I offer is going to radically improve someone’s life, but it’s motivating to know it could.
In Acts 3, there’s a story about a lame beggar who asked Peter and John for a donation. The two disciples, who were on their way to the temple, told the man they didn’t have any silver or gold, but they’d gladly give what they did have. So, in the name of Jesus Christ, they invoked God’s power and the man was healed. Whoa. An ordinary encounter became a life-changing miracle because these disciples stopped what they were doing and gave what they had. The ripple became a tidal wave.
We choose whether to see people as obstacles or opportunities. I can walk into Walmart hoping no one slows me down as I conquer my shopping list, or I can go in praying and looking for ways to make somebody’s day better. My autopilot setting, I confess, is to stay in the “get ’er done” zone where I’m pretty oblivious to others and focused on the task at hand, but I know I can override that setting and choose a ministry mindset.
I know those very different mindsets lead to very different experiences. They also determine whether I live with a sense of anticipation about how God might use me or weighed down with stress about getting things done.
So, in the spirit of offering you what I have, I give you this column, which I hope you’ll find uplifting and motivating, and my arm flab. Yes, go ahead and giggle at the thought of it jiggling to and fro. We certainly all need a laugh these days and I know a couple of 4-year-olds who think my hangy arms are just downright hilarious.