I know someone who has had problems controlling their temper for most of their life. In the last years he has literally turned it around. I asked him his secret.
He said, “I used to think the problem was that people were constantly provoking me and my anger was a response to being provoked. I didnt think anything would every change until they did and they obviously weren’t going to change….. So finally I just go to the point where I was angry regardless of what people did. I guess I thought I was just getting ready for what I was sure was sure was coming… and then I finally began to realize I had it wrong. People were not provoking me to get angry. They were inviting me to get angry…. And I could chose to accept or not. …”
Maybe life is really about nothing other than the invitations we choose to respond to. He told me that one day he counted the invitations to anger he got and discovered something essential. “I got tons more invitations to anger that I ever got angry… I was already chosing and didnt know it.”
Maybe it is one reason so many of us have such a hard time being joyous. We wait fruitlessly to be “provoked” to joy and never realize the invitations we are given. The most joyous person I have ever met is my friend Boutras. He is a refugee from the Sudan. He described to me one night what he had survived. He had been imprisoned for his faith. His wife had been beaten. One night the Moslem raiders came and burnt down his house and destroyed everything he owned. He and his family, including several small children, literally ran for their lives. He knew people that had been sold into slavery. Things I could not even imagine he had lived on an every-day basis. Yet I have never seen him not joyous at life. He told me one time, “This is a great country. Did you know that here they have school buses to take your kids to school. Can you believe that?” Boutras was an invitation to joy in and of himself and I count my times with him and his family as a gift from God. But he taught me something else. We spoke different languages, not because of the tongues we spoke, but because he learned to listen to different things that I did.
Maybe, just maybe, if we listen differently we might hear different things. We listen to the loudest things so much and guide our lives by the directions they point. We get so tied up with where we are going that we forget that it is not the only place to go. Life, for many of us, is very hard and that is very real. But because it is real it does not mean that is all that is real. I try to listen a little more for what Boutras hears and try to smile a little each time when I see a school bus and try to know that often lost in the tumult of the day are the invitations to joy and miracle silently waiting to hear my answer.
I know someone who has had problems controlling their temper for most of their life. In the last years he has literally turned it around. I asked him his secret.
He said, “I used to think the problem was that people were constantly provoking me and my anger was a response to being provoked. I didnt think anything would every change until they did and they obviously weren’t going to change….. So finally I just go to the point where I was angry regardless of what people did. I guess I thought I was just getting ready for what I was sure was sure was coming… and then I finally began to realize I had it wrong. People were not provoking me to get angry. They were inviting me to get angry…. And I could chose to accept or not. …”
Maybe life is really about nothing other than the invitations we choose to respond to. He told me that one day he counted the invitations to anger he got and discovered something essential. “I got tons more invitations to anger that I ever got angry… I was already chosing and didnt know it.”
Maybe it is one reason so many of us have such a hard time being joyous. We wait fruitlessly to be “provoked” to joy and never realize the invitations we are given. The most joyous person I have ever met is my friend Boutras. He is a refugee from the Sudan. He described to me one night what he had survived. He had been imprisoned for his faith. His wife had been beaten. One night the Moslem raiders came and burnt down his house and destroyed everything he owned. He and his family, including several small children, literally ran for their lives. He knew people that had been sold into slavery. Things I could not even imagine he had lived on an every-day basis. Yet I have never seen him not joyous at life. He told me one time, “This is a great country. Did you know that here they have school buses to take your kids to school. Can you believe that?” Boutras was an invitation to joy in and of himself and I count my times with him and his family as a gift from God. But he taught me something else. We spoke different languages, not because of the tongues we spoke, but because he learned to listen to different things that I did.
Maybe, just maybe, if we listen differently we might hear different things. We listen to the loudest things so much and guide our lives by the directions they point. We get so tied up with where we are going that we forget that it is not the only place to go. Life, for many of us, is very hard and that is very real. But because it is real it does not mean that is all that is real. I try to listen a little more for what Boutras hears and try to smile a little each time when I see a school bus and try to know that often lost in the tumult of the day are the invitations to joy and miracle silently waiting to hear my answer.
I know someone who has had problems controlling their temper for most of their life. In the last years he has literally turned it around. I asked him his secret.
He said, “I used to think the problem was that people were constantly provoking me and my anger was a response to being provoked. I didnt think anything would every change until they did and they obviously weren’t going to change….. So finally I just go to the point where I was angry regardless of what people did. I guess I thought I was just getting ready for what I was sure was sure was coming… and then I finally began to realize I had it wrong. People were not provoking me to get angry. They were inviting me to get angry…. And I could chose to accept or not. …”
Maybe life is really about nothing other than the invitations we choose to respond to. He told me that one day he counted the invitations to anger he got and discovered something essential. “I got tons more invitations to anger that I ever got angry… I was already chosing and didnt know it.”
Maybe it is one reason so many of us have such a hard time being joyous. We wait fruitlessly to be “provoked” to joy and never realize the invitations we are given. The most joyous person I have ever met is my friend Boutras. He is a refugee from the Sudan. He described to me one night what he had survived. He had been imprisoned for his faith. His wife had been beaten. One night the Moslem raiders came and burnt down his house and destroyed everything he owned. He and his family, including several small children, literally ran for their lives. He knew people that had been sold into slavery. Things I could not even imagine he had lived on an every-day basis. Yet I have never seen him not joyous at life. He told me one time, “This is a great country. Did you know that here they have school buses to take your kids to school. Can you believe that?” Boutras was an invitation to joy in and of himself and I count my times with him and his family as a gift from God. But he taught me something else. We spoke different languages, not because of the tongues we spoke, but because he learned to listen to different things that I did.
Maybe, just maybe, if we listen differently we might hear different things. We listen to the loudest things so much and guide our lives by the directions they point. We get so tied up with where we are going that we forget that it is not the only place to go. Life, for many of us, is very hard and that is very real. But because it is real it does not mean that is all that is real. I try to listen a little more for what Boutras hears and try to smile a little each time when I see a school bus and try to know that often lost in the tumult of the day are the invitations to joy and miracle silently waiting to hear my answer.
I know someone who has had problems controlling their temper for most of their life. In the last years he has literally turned it around. I asked him his secret.
He said, “I used to think the problem was that people were constantly provoking me and my anger was a response to being provoked. I didnt think anything would every change until they did and they obviously weren’t going to change….. So finally I just go to the point where I was angry regardless of what people did. I guess I thought I was just getting ready for what I was sure was sure was coming… and then I finally began to realize I had it wrong. People were not provoking me to get angry. They were inviting me to get angry…. And I could chose to accept or not. …”
Maybe life is really about nothing other than the invitations we choose to respond to. He told me that one day he counted the invitations to anger he got and discovered something essential. “I got tons more invitations to anger that I ever got angry… I was already chosing and didnt know it.”
Maybe it is one reason so many of us have such a hard time being joyous. We wait fruitlessly to be “provoked” to joy and never realize the invitations we are given. The most joyous person I have ever met is my friend Boutras. He is a refugee from the Sudan. He described to me one night what he had survived. He had been imprisoned for his faith. His wife had been beaten. One night the Moslem raiders came and burnt down his house and destroyed everything he owned. He and his family, including several small children, literally ran for their lives. He knew people that had been sold into slavery. Things I could not even imagine he had lived on an every-day basis. Yet I have never seen him not joyous at life. He told me one time, “This is a great country. Did you know that here they have school buses to take your kids to school. Can you believe that?” Boutras was an invitation to joy in and of himself and I count my times with him and his family as a gift from God. But he taught me something else. We spoke different languages, not because of the tongues we spoke, but because he learned to listen to different things that I did.
Maybe, just maybe, if we listen differently we might hear different things. We listen to the loudest things so much and guide our lives by the directions they point. We get so tied up with where we are going that we forget that it is not the only place to go. Life, for many of us, is very hard and that is very real. But because it is real it does not mean that is all that is real. I try to listen a little more for what Boutras hears and try to smile a little each time when I see a school bus and try to know that often lost in the tumult of the day are the invitations to joy and miracle silently waiting to hear my answer.