While sitting under the forest green umbrella at a favorite coffee house, a friend of mine who recently moved to my town of Colorado Springs shared with me how much she wanted to connect with friends here. To that end, she asked a woman to coffee three different times — and that woman said no not once, not twice, but all three times.

She shook her head, and her curls danced lightly in the late August breeze. But her heart weighed heavier. Swirling her iced coffee in her hand, she said, “You know, it takes so much gumption and vulnerability to ask someone to spend time with you, especially when you’re new. Being turned down repeatedly discouraged me a good deal.”

As I listened to her, my heart ached. Perhaps her schedule was such that she genuinely couldn’t say yes, but I still found it easy to get frustrated at the woman who kept saying no. Before I let myself sit too high on my horse, however, a memory rose up — one that reminded me I’m not so different.

A couple of years ago, a good friend of mine asked me if I’d mind meeting a good friend of hers who had moved to Colorado Springs.

I told my friend, “Oh, I’d love to! No problem at all!” And I completely meant it.

But then life hit hard, and I back-burnered that request till it fell off the stove completely. I never reached out, and she’s since moved away. How I regret not making time as I said I would. The Bible talks about letting our yes be a yes, and in that, I failed.

These coffee dates may seem small, but they exposed something deeper in me: how much more quickly I see someone else’s failure to love well than I see my own failure to love well. And if I’m honest, that same bent shows up not just in my friendships, but in how I view the world’s troubles too.

As I type this, it’s been a long, heavy week full of heart-wrenching, tragic news. Fixing this world is above my pay grade, though I have my ideas. And I’ll admit that when I mull over why things are the way they are, I often think the problem is with a certain group of people.

In a sermon years ago, the late pastor Dr. Tim Keller relayed a story about a time when a prominent British newspaper published a series of letters and essays where people answered the question, “What is wrong with the world today?” Naturally, people responded with lengthy epistles regarding their convictions on the world’s problems. G.K. Chesterton, an early 20th-century British journalist, author, and Christian apologist, responded to this question, too. In his own letter, he succinctly stated:

“Dear ______ Times,

The problem with the world is me.

Sincerely,

GK”

About this, Dr. Keller states, “We all think . . . if someone would deal with that group or those outside forces, then things would be okay. But the real Messiah always comes and says, ‘. . .repent. . .Your primary problem…is you. Not them, you.’ The reason [people] rejected the Messiah the first time was they expected the Messiah to say [others were] the problem. But the real Messiah came along and said, ‘…repent, you’re the problem.'”

This is what I know: the closer I walk with Jesus, the more aware I am of my own depravity. I can’t help but see that the world’s problem is my individual problem with pride, self-centeredness, foolishness, and hard-heartedness. When I mull over my sin, I’m ever faster to follow Jesus’s directive to repent.

Getting on my knees, I say, “Lord, forgive me for the times I choose my way over Your way. Forgive me for not wanting to deal with the sin in my own heart first. Forgive me for wanting to shake my fist at what others wrongly do while simultaneously giving myself a free pass for my own wrongdoing. Thank you that you take my sin and wash it white as snow.”

And when I get up off my knees, I’m left feeling lighter and loved, not shamed.

Of course, I don’t want to bury my head in the sand and act like there isn’t evil in the world to pray about and fight against. I don’t want to neglect praying for God’s will and His ways to flood the hearts of others, as well as my own. Different sins have different earthly consequences, certainly, but all sin hurts this world from advancing God’s glory and our good. So, I want a mindset that regularly repents of my own self-absorbed behavior (behavior that creates more negative consequences than I’d like to admit).

This last weekend, a darling young mama I’d connected with online reached out to me because she was speaking at an event in my own neighborhood,

“Do you have 30 minutes to meet for coffee?” she asked.

I waffled because I had a lot of personal “to-do’s” that day. And really, it wouldn’t have been wrong to say no. But I thought of my friend under the green umbrella and the sting of rejection she carried. I didn’t want to contribute to someone else feeling the same way.

By God’s grace, I said yes. And I’m so glad I did. Her spirit shone with a light that spilled from within, and I left our time encouraged, reminded that because of Jesus, even when I’ve failed, I don’t have to fail the same way tomorrow.

Each new “yes” is a chance to reflect His love and redeem what once was lost.

Thanks be to the good Lord above.

 

Leave a Comment