If you have ever had any home improvement projects interrupt your daily routine, you understand the frustrations that come in the middle of improving your home. Fortunately, the work was being done outside, so there wasn't much construction inside the house.
A typical planner, I have my morning's activities planned down to the minute. I know how long it will take me to walk the dog, eat breakfast, etc. This was one of those mornings.
I had just arrived home from working out and knew I had approximately 45 minutes to get ready for work. Noticing a new truck at the front of the house, I peeked my head around back to confirm this stranger was indeed working on our porch and not stealing our things.
When I came around the corner, I noticed an older man with salt and pepper hair, smoking a cigarette and appearing highly anxious.
"Ma'am" he said in a southern drawl, "I don't mean to be rude, but I am scared to death of your dog."
As I put the dog up in his crate, I listened to the mans story of being bitten by a dog similar to this. He then apologized for the inconvenience.
"No problem" I reassured him, glancing at my watch. Thirty minutes to go, I needed to start getting ready.
But, he kept going, "I'm going to leave the house soon and I can't let him out of his crate. Can someone else do it?"
"I'll ask my husband" I said, feeling slightly annoyed at the disruption of my day. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." he explained, "I need a check."
"A check?" I asked.
"For how much? For what? I give it to you?" I hammered him with questions. The truth is that I had never met this man. I trusted the company, but giving a check for an unknown amount to a stranger struck me as odd. And didn't he know I was down to 28 minutes to get ready?
"I don't know. You'll have to ask the boss man. He asked that I get a check from you." he said politely.
I went inside to call my husband with no luck. I knew it was a busy day at Shane's work, so I thought I would take a shower and try again before I left. With the water running, I began to undress and test out the water, when I heard the door bell ring.
"What?" I said allowed to the cats while I threw my clothes back on.
I stomped to the door. "Yes?" I asked the man standing there.
"Did you get the check?" he said nicely. "It's time for me to leave and the boss man said to take a check."
I convinced him to give me a minute more and the man said he would finish up some projects. I tried to call Shane again and left another message. I started the water again and began to undress when I heard "ding dong" of the doorbell.
"You have got to be kidding me!" I said again to the cats, this time glancing at the clock. I only had fifteen minutes before I had to leave and I had yet to shower!
I opened the door with a mean face. "Sorry ma'am" the gentleman said, "But, I really have to go. Do you have the check?"
I deep breathed, stomped in the house, and felt like pulling my hair out. I finally got in touch with Shane, who informed me that he was suppose to leave a check earlier. It made sense now, but in my rush I shoved the check at the man and closed the door with barely a "bye".
I was incredibly irritated. I jumped in the shower, threw on some clothes and called the office to let them know I was running 10 minutes late.
"Don't rush, honey!" the administrative assistant informed me. "Your client called and he is running 15 minutes late, so you'll have plenty of time."
The rest of my day I could not shake the feeling of frustration. No matter what I did, I could not stop replaying the interactions with this man out of my head. That's when I figured out what I was feeling: not frustration, but guilt.
I was only thinking about one thing that morning: my plans, my time schedule, my business, and me. The man was helping me. I never even thanked him for the work he was doing on my porch. Instead, I treated him like a nuisance when he was only doing his job.
I felt terrible.
Not to mention, the fact that my client was running late, too.
Was that a test?
Did God put that obstacle in my path, knowing it would not negatively effect my client, only to see if I could go beyond my own selfish path to respond patiently to a kind, polite man who was only doing his job?
If it was a test - I failed.
The next morning I peeked outside to saw the same man doing work on the porch. Remembering his fear of dogs, I went outside and helped put Wyatt in the crate. But, a kind gesture was not enough. I apologized forthright for my nasty attitude. The typical southern gentleman, he told me not to mention it. But, it deserved mentioning.
That day I learned that it's not enough to just "patch things up" as a passive apology. When you've done something wrong, you must say the words and ask for forgiveness. Test or no test, at least an apology sets me back on the right path.
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