Rushing To Judgement

Blog 2214 – 11.09.2021

Rushing To Judgement

About a year ago someone stole the tailgate off my truck parked in front of my home in Houston, Texas. I tried to maintain an upbeat attitude about it and it all worked out in the end as I ended up getting a tailgate from a salvage yard nearby for half what a dealership quoted me to replace it and the one I got was in better condition than the one they took and the gentleman who carried it out to the truck took a moment to install it on my truck with no extra charge. It even had a black rubber coating on the inside surface to protect it and help it last. I thought of Job who despite evidence that he had had everything he cherished taken from him held fast believing that his loving and infinite source would provide his every need and every want at just the right time and in just the right way.

I have been parking my truck right next to my RV Campers steps in the next trailer space to mine. The camp ground is beginning to thin out as work projects are ending early in anticipation of the winter shut down of construction projects in north eastern Nebraska. I expect my work assignment also to end in the next several weeks, perhaps even before the end of November after my birthday and Thanksgiving. As I loaded my back pack and lunch box into the passenger side floorboard of my pick up yesterday morning before leaving for work, the automatic light above my trailer shined into the truck bed and for just a moment the black coating on the inside of the tailgate made it look like the tailgate was gone. And I said to myself, “Oh, shit, not again.” But when I walked back to the back of the truck I could see the tailgate was still there.

I gave myself a little talking to, not for the “wordy dird” but for rushing to judgement. First of all, I do not believe there are any dirty words, hurtful yes, especially those spoken in anger or to deceive, but words have meanings and are meant to communicate our thoughts to ourselves and others. I was a bit disappointed in myself for jumping to the wrong conclusion. I know better. I have proved to myself over a lifetime that the Beach Boy song lyric, “Don’t worry, Baby, everything will turn out alright” is literally true without exception in my life, our life. Worry never added one iota to my life or anyone else’s. Worry is one of ego’s most useful weapons in his war to rob us. He is a thief and a liar and the truth is not in him/her.

If that tailgate had been missing I would have again been provided an even better one or perhaps even a new ride. All these things about us are just props in this time and space stage play. Even most if not all the players will have their brief time on stage then make their exits not to be seen again till the curtain call and cast party afterwards.

Though this particular act may make the entire production seem like a farce, a comedy, or a horrific tragedy, it is if we believe as Job and The Beach Boys, a fairytale with a happy ending. I believe in happy endings. I can understand if some think otherwise. The temptation to rush to judgement or conclusions and to mistake or assume from partial evidence is something we all must deal with. To paraphrase a famous Beatles lyric, “All I am saying is give Hope a chance.” Another practical saying goes, “Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.” I say change that last part and make it, “Hope for the best and prepare for the best.”

All’s well that ends well and we are assured that it will. That it may not appear to be going well at a particular moment is a sure sign that there is more to come. Hold on and reserve judgement. As one of my favorite songs from the children’s album, The Music Machine, says:

“Have patience, have patience

Don’t be in such a hurry

When you get impatient

You only start to worry.

Remember, remember

That God (the Universe) is patient too

And think of all the times

When others had to wait for you.”

Somebody’s knocking at the door, do me a favor, open the door, and let Hope in. I borrowed most of that from a Paul McCarney lyric but after Elenor Rigby I thought I’d take a little poetic license with the ending. I once thought as a moody teenager that “Yesterday” was the most beautiful song ever written, but I am inclined since I will be passing sixty four by seven years in a couple of weeks that Little Orphan Annie’s “Tomorrow” is a far more beautiful and accurate song.

Your friend and fellow traveler,

David White

Holly, Holly

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