When I lost my cat a year ago, my friends checked in on me more often to make sure I knew I had support. When a friend's mother passed last summer, I made this card for the family. I didn't know her mom, but I knew she must have been a beautiful soul to have raised my friend to be as kind and loving as she is.
Kindness doesn't need to cost much. Often, it can be given away for free. I am reminded of this every time someone goes a bit out of their way with a simple act of kindness—even if it's not directed at me. On the plane ride home from Dallas, Texas yesterday, it was my turn to act.
My husband and I tend to book the exit row on planes for more leg room. In this case, I had an open space to my right where the emergency exit door was. While I breezed through the last half of a book, the man in the row behind me, who had a clear view of my book through the empty space, leaned forward and said, "Hey, could you start that book over so I can read it, too?"
I laughed at his joke and said he could read it after me. He declined with a wave of his hand.
Then, it occurred to me: why not let him read it after? I could finish it in about twenty minutes. The man's eyes were smiling, but he was uneasy. Turned out, he couldn't do much of anything on a plane without getting sick. While he went back and forth from leaning back with his eyes closed to shifting for a more comfortable position, I breezed through the last couple of chapters. As soon as I finished the final page, turbulence hit. I get motion sick on planes, too.
The night before, storms raged through the Dallas area. The whipping wind woke me and my husband around four a.m.. Funny enough, we passed over that same storm in the plane while heading back home, but not until I finished reading. The timing was too good to be coincidence, and the prompt inside my head grew while I tried not to get nauseous myself.
I had received a divine nudge: give the man the book.
The book was Ask It: The Question That Will Revolutionize How You Make Decisions. The content was helpful for those who don't have it all figured out, those who make mistakes, those with broken relationships and areas of life they wish we could improve—which is me along with everyone else on the planet. Even though I was blessed with anxiety-inducing foresight, I still mess up. I needed the reminder about setting personal boundaries that have nothing to do with anyone else but me.
In fact, this same author helped inspire me to do something that has grown my marriage beyond what I originally envisioned. When I got serious dating my husband, I had several close male friends. Some of them didn't want to be just friends. One of them let me know.
I don't need to finish this story for most people to imagine how that went. It was clear I couldn't keep this person as a friend. In fact, if my past experiences had shown me anything, it was that nearly all of those male friendships were built on guys "waiting their turn." I realize this sounds arrogant on my end, but it happened.
Admittedly, it wasn't all their fault. I was an unfortunate tease back in college, and I didn't fully ditch that awful habit until later. Either way, I realized that if I wanted to have a healthy marriage, I needed to let that friend go. After I got married, it turned into a need to let all of my close male friends go. It was hard, and I wavered.
While I watched my other female friends, perfectly happy in their friendships with guys, I missed some of my old connections. I wondered why I struggled with platonic companionship without the resulting weirdness. It made me feel like cutting them all out was extreme. No one else was having trouble. Just me.
Then, my pastor, and the author of the book, preached a sermon on setting healthy personal boundaries. Turns out, he doesn't council women or go anywhere alone with them at all—a boundary he set in place to make sure nothing untoward can happen. It was such a relief to have that kinship and hear him talk about the resulting awkward conversations and backlash from people who don't understand the boundary. I've been there, stuttering over my odd personal rules in conversation with the opposite sex, but I don't regret my decision at all.
The book touches on the author's experiences and gives loads of helpful information to break bad habits, live with fewer regrets. Anyone could benefit from applying the information between the pages.
Which brings me back to the plane. I said a quick prayer, asking God if it was weird to hand a stranger my book. I peeked over my shoulder a couple of times while the ride was bumpy, but the man looked like he was asleep. I turned and asked my husband what he thought I should do. Another topic in the book was how wise people seek council from a trusted individual.
The next time I turned around, the man was awake. I went for it. I pulled the book out of the plane's seat back pocket and handed it to him. He said he couldn't read it on the plane, so I told him it was a gift. After I went into a quick explanation of what it was about, he looked surprised. I expected him to politely decline again, but he took it and asked me if he could pay me for it. I told him I planned to put it in a Little Free Library back home anyway, so it was nice to give it to someone instead. He smiled and said he would read it and pass it on as I had done. I hope he does.
A little awkward, yes. Do I regret following through? Nope. Who knows what that man is dealing with in his life? If I have an opportunity to pass along some wisdom that blessed me, why shouldn't I take it? Even if he doesn't read it and gives it someone else, the book could help them.
The entire experience lifted me as well as my airsick flight neighbor. God gives us opportunities to bless others. It's always our choice to take or leave them. Yesterday, I took it.
Keep on smilin'!
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