An Extra Piece

With all that is happening in our country and in our world, it’s easy to get overwhelmed.  Today, we hear & experience concern about our jobs, our health, and our safety:  Do I wear a mask?  Will I still have a job next week?  Is it safe to venture out?  All of these questions are valid for some or all of us.  So what is to be done?

 I feel like a very small piece in a very large machine.  Honestly, I feel like the one item that isn’t really required.  You know exactly to which item I refer.  It’s that piece that’s left-over when you build or repair something. That ingredient in a recipe that you just don’t have.  Or the extra dish with no matching cup.   It doesn’t seem to matter and everything works without it, so it must be superfluous.  I identify with that item. 

But, with time, we may discover how important that one item, as small and insignificant as it seems, really is to the whole thing.  Have you ever had washers left over when putting together a project?  You wonder if you missed a place for a minute.   But, it’s just a washer, right?  The problem comes later when the screw pulls loose because the washer wasn’t there to keep it tight.  The entire project may collapse because that one, insignificant piece wasn’t used. 

I enjoy baking sour dough bread.  When I first began learning how to bake sour-dough, I had some pretty dismal result.  Once, I didn’t have enough all-purpose flour for the recipe.    So I used self-rising flour as a substitute.  It looked the same and I’d seen baking shows use it as a substitute.  The bread was dense and had a very salty taste.  Self-rising flour has salt added.  I didn’t adjust my recipe to account for that because it was such a small amount.  Another time, I was in a rush to get my bread into the oven. I didn’t wait for the sour dough sponge to double in size.  I rationalized that it had grown some and that was enough.  Again, the bread was very dense and not particularly pleasant to eat.  The smallest ingredient, or the smallest amount of time, can make all of the difference.

So, how does that relate to my life today?  I live in my own little bubble.  How do I make a difference?  I make a difference when I treat others the way I want to be treated.  I don’t have to wait to see how I will be treated to be kind, polite and helpful.  If wearing a mask in public makes others feel more comfortable, then I’ll wear a mask.  If spraying my credit card or cash with disinfectant makes the cashier smile, then I’ll do that.  Others may not be able to see me smiling behind my mask, but a pleasant hello and a wave may convey the thought.  There’s so much going on around us and so many emotions that are being rubbed raw by the current news, common courtesy and consideration goes a long way. 

 I’m realize that I am not going to make a huge difference in the political arena.  It doesn’t matter how loudly I talk or how passionate I am about the current climate, I’m probably not going to be “known” to the people that make decisions.  But, my voice, my letter or my phone call, when considered in context with many others, will be recognized.  I don’t understand all of the race issues.  But, I try my best to see people as who they are.  I want describe others as nice, beautiful, helpful, kind, grumpy, rude or just weird instead of black, white, male, female or any other racial/sexist designation. 

I may be too simplistic in my ideas.  But this is the only place I know to begin my battle.  I change my little bubble which may affect another little bubble and continue on down the line.    I can only change myself and try to have an impact on others.  Sometimes, you need the extra dish for the special treats. That’s my hope, anyway.

‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ 

Mark 12:31 MSG

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