God Always Gives You Another Chance

Do Some People Bring Out the Worst in You?

For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do — this I keep on doing (Romans 7: 19).

St Paul. That holy man and dedicated man of God, who, according to some scholars, wrote half of the New Testament.

I so relate to the man. I fail and fall, get up, and try again, only to repeat the cycle.

My morning walk with the dogs yesterday was troubled. There is still too much to do before we leave to go north for Christmas with the family. I can’t still my mind. I took a deep breath, looked up at the sky and the scuttering clouds, and recited my favorite “go-to” prayer –

I ask of you for myself and for those whom I hold dear the grace to fulfill perfectly your holy will, to accept for love of you the joys and sorrows of this passing life, so that we may one day be united together in Heaven for all eternity (St Therese of Lisieux).                                                                 

Feeling better, I rounded the corner and headed towards the pond to say “hi” to Alfred, our resident alligator.

And there she was, the lady I take pains to avoid for reasons too many and petty to name here.

I returned her cheery good morning and tried to continue, but it was not to be. The lady wanted to talk.

“Don’t you just love this time of the year?” She continued to expound on the theme of the Christmas Season.

And instead of just listening and nodding in agreement, I opened my big mouth and said,

“No, I don’t like it.” And, in turn, expounded on why I didn’t like it. Where is the birth of Christ in all these festivities and gift-giving and celebrating?

Oh yes, I had me a field day. After all, she had interrupted my meditation.

“But,” she tried again. “The Christmas music, the lights, the decorations all make me so happy. And the children getting their gifts.”

I had another chance to agree or snort something non-committal, but no, irritated beyond my limit, I retorted –

“Seeing the children excited about their presents is lovely, but then, after that, someone should read them the Christmas Story. And explain the reason for the gifts.”

This could’ve gone on longer, but I cut it short, telling her my brother passed away Christmas Eve two years ago, and I feel as if I’m on that countdown period again.

Now, that was downright nasty and unnecessary on my part, but it did achieve the desired effect.

A few more polite words and we parted ways. It didn’t take long for regret and profound embarrassment to set in.

What was wrong with me? Yes, I did not care for the rah-rah commercialization that is Christmas, but I handled it all wrong! I could’ve been nicer.

It was the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a Holy Day of Obligation for Catholics worldwide.

Off to church, I took myself. I begged forgiveness from God and then went to talk to the Blessed Mother. No doubt, there were times she’d had too much on her plate. I had a good talk with her, woman to woman.

But still, my behavior from earlier that day hung over my head.

As I walked up the aisle to leave, an older lady in front of me had the laces undone on her sneakers. My safety gene kicked in, and I tapped her on her shoulder and told her about her shoe.

Oh me, and oh my, and oh dear, and more in the same vein, and she always had a problem with the one shoe, and she sat down in the pew but couldn’t really reach her shoe. I knelt and explained that a long lace like that needed a double bow. Tied her shoe, helped her out of the pew, and said goodbye.

As I got closer to the door, a somewhat substantial lady with a cane was approaching gingerly.

“Can I help you?” I asked. She was heading for a big SUV parked outside against the curb.

She had her cane in her right hand. I took her left hand, and we started walking. It did enter my mind that if she should trip, there was no way I could hold her up. She was at least twice my weight and a full head taller.

I said a quick prayer, and we got safely to the SUV. Her husband had parked, so he was closest to the curb. Why didn’t he park the car facing the other way? Men!

“Do I have to go around,” she asked and got a grumpy yes.

Oh my — how nice, I thought.

Around the front of the mammoth SUV, we went. We got to the door, and she reached to open it. If she’d succeeded, the door would have been open halfway between her body and the car.

“No,” I said, “come a little further towards me.” She did, and I could open the door all the way so she could get into the car comfortably.

We joked and laughed. “Butt first,” I told her. “Then the first leg, and if you have a problem, use your hands to lift the next leg and put it inside. I have to do that all the time.”

More laughing. And throughout all this, the husband stared straight ahead without a smile or word.

I wished her well, squeezed her hand, and left.

I got into my car, and I felt lighter. And realized God had put these two ladies in my path so I could redeem myself a little. Not completely.

I wouldn’t be surprised if He puts the annoying dog walker in my path again, giving me a chance to apologize.

I will.

For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do — this I keep on doing (Romans 7: 19).