I believe in a lot of things and I think I’m pretty sure of others.
I believe that most people are decent if given the chance and that most of us just want to be the best that we can be.
I believe that we live in the best nation on earth and have more opportunity than we deserve but that we squander most of it.
I believe that we all have dreams and talents and gifts but that we too often limit ourselves and don’t act on many of them.
I believe we could learn a lot from animals and just live for today. But we should also just be thankful for today.
I believe we should believe in one another.
And I believe I don’t know it all.
What I do know is that we’re much too quick to limit both ourselves and those we meet. We tuck people in neat little boxes that we’re comfortable with and then declare that we know them. Or we brush by them because we’re too busy to stop. It makes relationships easy and keeps us in charge. And we miss so much along the way…
So I slowed down this week and really watched for people who crossed my path who were pretty special and worth believing in. And here’s what I found.
I believe in James.
Having worked at Kroger for as long as I’ve been shopping there, James is apparently a career bagger and aisle stocker and buggy man. He has such a sweet disposition, but it literally took years before I heard him say a word. I think there’s a bit of magic involved because he usually pops out of nowhere to silently help load the groceries in the car. Then he is gone with the buggy as quickly as he came. I don’t know anything about his background or off-duty life, but I do know he is one of Kroger’s best. He knows his job and he does it and he’s dependable. He is so unassuming, though, that it’s easy to overlook him. It’s far too tempting to label him as a bit slow and uninteresting. He can fade into the woodwork and you won’t even miss him.
But since we now carry on a limited conversation, I asked if he was keeping warm on one recent snowy day of loading groceries. “Oh, yes,” he answered. “When you have God in your heart, you’re never that cold.” And he actually smiled. Wow. In one sentence, he was out of the box I had put him in. And then he took the buggy back to the store. And my day was better. Even if he never leaves Kroger, I know he’ll go far.
I believe in Elsa.
Elsa is a waitress at a local Mexican restaurant. She’s been in this country for 15 years, having come with her dad from Mexico City when she was 11. She never knew her mother, and her dad left her soon after she got here. She was labeled as slow in her studies because she hadn’t mastered English. Most thought of her as just another immigrant who would probably get into legal trouble before not graduating from high school. She did graduate, though, and began studying to be a dental hygienist but had little encouragement so she quit. The only job she could find was as a waitress, but she’s giving it her all. Still, she knows there is more.
We started the conversation because we liked her accent, but we finished it only after talking about college scholarships and encouraging her to pursue a law degree because she really wanted to help others, especially immigrants like herself. Her dark eyes lit up when she thought about a different future; she firmly believes God sent us her way as encouragement. I don’t know about that, but I’m willing to be used in that way if necessary. We inspired her and she inspired us that night.
I believe in Ms. Carolyn.
I met her about 10 years ago when my family began attending a small rural church in Morgan County. Attendance is small on most Sundays, and the future of the church is uncertain, but one thing is for sure—Ms. Carolyn will see it through, come hell or high water, for as long as she is able. She is genuinely committed to teaching her Sunday School class and occupying the same pew each Sunday. She is concerned that enough hymnals are placed in the trays behind each pew and that visitor cards are readily available. She is the Southern matriarch and staunch pillar of the United Methodist Women in her community. Ms. Carolyn is made of steel, powered by prayer, and totally unpredictable. I recently arrived to pick her up for an event we were both attending. She scurried to the car, reminding me of an eager squirrel, with a neat gray sweater draped over her arm “in case it’s chilly in there.” As soon as she was seated in the car, she leaned forward, patted the dashboard and said “Bless this car and those who are in it.” She is never short of words or wisdom.
You would never know that she has a master’s degree in counseling. You would also never imagine that when she was about 20, she left a note on her mother’s kitchen table and took the next bus west to California—alone. There, she met and married an immigrant from Armenia who owned a clothing store, parented five children with her, cherished her, and then died much too early. She sold the store, made her way back to Alabama, nursed her dying mother, and returned to the church and to the lifestyle she had left so many years before. Beneath those permed gray curls, Ms. Carolyn is resilient and adventurous and spunky and a powerhouse. And she has come full circle, but what a ride.
Believing in yourself is relatively easy. Believing in and appreciating others for what they stand for and for what they can teach you is not so easy. The one thing I know is that you’re sure to be surprised and will never be bored if you just get out of your box and let them get out of theirs.
One thing I’m certain of is that I believe in the power of believing in others.
