Yesterday, my neighbor knocked on the door and asked to borrow my shovel. (Yes, I actually have a few yard tools—that someone left here.) First, he asked my name, because he forgot. Which is fine since I wasn’t confident about his name. He’s a quiet guy who intentionally blends into the background behind an outgoing wife and well-behaved kids.
“Of course,” I told him. Then I went and cleaned the cobwebs off my shovel.
He used it and brought it back promptly. And it made me think… I want to be more neighborly.
I mean, the dude didn’t even know my name and he’s lived next door for a year. Hilary and I talk to his wife all the time, but not to him. Yes, he keeps to himself, but I haven’t been overly friendly, either. After all, I’ve been a pastor these past six years. I was nice to people for living! Why be friendly to someone off the clock?
I’m joking… mostly.
I wonder if a lot of people fall into this trap. Not just pastors, but because they are exhausted after being as “good” as they can be—while they have to be—then they have little kindness left when they get home to family… and neighbors. This is broken.
If the stress of the job is our justification for being an ass, we’re doing it wrong. Maybe we’re in the wrong job. Maybe we’re just in the job wrong.
That might take some time, prayer, and more Chewables to sort out. In the meantime, let’s walk outside and be kind to a neighbor.