Potholes

Yesterday I hit a pothole large enough to have its own zip code. It was huge.

I continued driving for a little while and pulled into the parking lot of one of my favorite restaurants to meet a friend for lunch. We had a great time.

I got into my car and backed up to leave. "Thwump-thwump..." Yeah, you guessed it. A flat tire and an interruption to my schedule.

Then I heard the words of Henri Nouwen echoing in my brain...

"My whole life I've been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted, until I discovered the interruptions were my work."

I eased the car into a parking lot and got out to inspect the damage. Yep, it was a flat tire. This is well within the range of my expertise, so I went to the trunk and looked for the jack and tire iron.

Slight problem.

There was no tire iron. I am sure that the car came equipped with one, but it was nowhere to be found among the jumper cables, empty Starbuck cups, and straw leftover from last years Harvest Festival.

I got back in the car and called my friends at Triple A. They responded politely and quickly.

The man arrived and was greeted by ice pellets falling from the dark Michigan sky.

He did three things...He smiled, he changed the tire, and he thanked me for the opportunity to come out and be of service. I am sure this is standard Triple A customer service, but it was sure nice to hear.

What happens when you are interrupted? Do you show up and smile? Do you commit an act of kindness? And do you thank people for the opportunity to serve?

I tend to do three things...mutter, grumble and complain.

Interruptions.

"Thwump-thwump"...oh, that's not the sound of the flat tire, that is the sound of me getting it.

Interruptions. They occur at the most inopportune time.

They are my work...how about you?

Just a thought....