Distracted, perhaps in a good way

I often have good intentions. Notwithstanding what has been paved with good intentions, I believe that thinking and planning and working toward good things is, in itself, a good thing.

Yet there is something to be said for actually accomplishing something. And, on occasion, I’ve been known to get a project all the way to completion. Not today, it seems, but on occasion.

Tomorrow night at church I will be teaching the first of five lessons on the book of James. I’ve been focusing on this study for almost two years — particularly in the ways that James approached conflict and its causes. I’ve learned a lot about this letter and I’ve taught this material in a number of settings. One of my big fears is that some of the good folks who have been in previous classes will come to the class. It’s not that I don’t want them there. I’m just thinking that it will be really awkward when they realize that they’ve been through all of this with me before and they’re wishing they had chosen one of the other classes.

I have learned more about the message of James since the last time I taught. In fact, I have some very fresh insights that I’ve been exploring. And I had good intentions of reconstructing all of my outlines to include them.

Things happen, however, and I found myself thinking during lunch today about how I would have this evening, at last, to retread the first lesson. As my email inbox bulged this afternoon with various and sundry requests from students and faculty, I struggled to keep up.

The biggest distraction was a late afternoon meeting. It was the second day that I was summoned to a late afternoon meeting of great import. Yesterday’s was informative and, I thought, fairly positive. Today’s was less so. Mainly because it was a follow-up meeting to yesterday’s and because there was little more that could be said. Don’t get me wrong. The meeting content was very important, but I was distracted by my experience because my fellow meeting-goers seemed, for the most part, really discouraged.

My initial reaction was to be frustrated with those around me. Then as I left the meeting I began wondering what, if anything, I could do to improve their demeanor and make things easier. Hence my distraction.

And I was pretty heavy into these thoughts of making things better when it struck me — maybe the idea that I could help my friends was being presumptuous.

And with the thought that my help was probably not what was needed, my distraction melted and I was left staring at the book of James. But it’s getting late. My demeanor is waning.

And tomorrow will be a better day. Do you think God sends distractions when he knows that our later efforts will be better? Or is that just one of the most innovative justifications of procrastination that you have ever heard?

Tomorrow night. James, the first chapter. Be there. I’ll be ready.

Kate says

The weekly email from the American Bar Association popped up with news for the week. I usually find something of interest, but last week’s didn’t have much. I did see where a law firm had banned phones and other communication devices from firm meetings. Thought I’d take a look.

The story was short and to the point. A law firm had established rules regarding the use of cell phones and portable email devices in meetings. Seems that the lawyers had grown tired of having that type of interruption. That was it. The story was over. I thought there must be more, so I paged down below the advertisements.

I don’t suppose that I had done that before. But I discovered that there was a comment feature at the bottom of the page. I wasn’t really curious but for some unknown reason I started reading.

First comment commended the law firm. Second comment commended the law firm and went further, condemning anyone who talks on a cell phone in public. Third commenter told the second commenter to lighten up. That line of thought went back and forth for awhile.

And then someone noticed that the headline said “Firm Bans Blackberrys,” or something like that. So, of course, a heated debated arose over whether the plural of Blackberry is Blackberrys or Blackberries. Soon, commenters were blending the plurality issue with whether cell phones and emails by phone are from the devil — and possibly whether other commenters were demonic.

This is the tragedy of online news and blogs. In the cloak of anonymity, people act nasty to other people. Yes, it happens face to face, too. But people really think it’s okay and even admirable if they can make derogatory remarks about other people on the internet. It is true that some individuals are respectful and articulate. But many are not.

That’s why I was blessed by what Kate said, way down in the list of comments. Her words?

I have never taken the time to read comments responding to a posted article. Hilarious–thanks for the entertainment! I particularly love when one individual criticizes another, all the while making blatant typos, whether spelling, punctuation, or grammar. Another favorite: the witty remarks. Thanks for the laughs.

In her kind way, Kate assumed the best. That people were simply going out of their way to entertain her and other readers. And don’t you love the gentle way she pointed out that perhaps people should pay attention to what they type?

Seems to me that many of the earlier comments could have been made in Kate’s style. The same information would have been imparted. And we would have all been spared the nastiness. Who knows? Perhaps I’ve missed the point. Maybe online comments should only be viewed as entertainment.

Oh, and if you are wondering, the plural of Blackberry is “Blackberry Mobile Devices” according to one of the commentators who bothered to go and ask the company. Not much entertainment value in that, but the process is certainly refreshing.

Irony Upon Irony

We discussed a little two-fold irony this morning. You would benefit from knowing the two bases of this wonderment.

First, when my son, Justin, and his wife, Alex, visit us, I always insist that they park their car in our driveway. Things seem to be quiet these days, but several years ago, there were problems all around town with vandals randomly driving a neighborhood and shooting out car windows. Happily, police believe that they’ve apprehended this band of hoodlums. Still, I think it’s a good idea for all cars to be parked away from the street.

Second, I recently bought a vehicle with a back-up camera. When I slide the transmission into reverse, I get the beep-beep-beep of a large truck and a video image jumps to life on my dashboard. While the owner’s manual urges you to check your backward progress via conventional techniques like rear view mirrors and just by turning around, the cameras are seen as a great deterrent to potential accidents when objects or even people have crept into your path.

You know where this is going, don’t you?

This morning, heading out to the bank, I left Nancy, Justin, and Alex inside finishing breakfast. I put my car in gear and ever so slowly began to ease out of the garage. I noticed Justin’s car and even noted that he had done a good job of pulling it far forward and away from the garage. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, I continued to back out. Somewhere in that journey, I noticed my lawn and the lawn of my neighbor and thought, “I really need to mow my lawn.”

It was about that time that my car suddenly quit moving and I could see my son’s car rocking wildly behind me. I got out. Luckily there was no additional damage to either car.

Oh, I did say “additional.” Seems this is the second time I’ve done this. I know that lessons are supposed to be learned from things like this. I suppose I was going for extra credit.

At some point in your life, you just have to give up and let irony rain down on you. For it seems that most irony is a product of our own inattention to what happens around us.