Confessions of a Complainer and a Worshipper

We see what we choose to see. I've talked about this before. In their book, Crucial Confrontations, authors Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan, and Al Switzler say that whenever we see another person and/or another person's actions, we immediately tell ourselves a "story" which determines how we see that individual. I may see a news report of a person of another ethnic origin arrested for armed robbery. Consciously or unconsciously I tell myself a quick story, maybe, "Someone of that ethnic once took something from me." I then leap to a conclusion that determines how I see the next person of that ethnicity - "All people like that tend to be thieves. He should be put behind bars forever." Or, perhaps I see that a young woman with an Islamic background has won the Miss USA title. I quickly rehearse a known story - every terrorist I've noticed on the news has an Islamic background. My conclusion? The new Miss USA is part of a Muslim plot. We see what we tell ourselves we want to see.

That's true about almost anything in life. People who believe the best in other people, usually find that in those people or draw it out of them. People who look for the worst will have no trouble finding the worst. A good friend of mine shared this great quote about my world - the world of Jesus-followers and churches: "I think there are two types of people in the world: complainers and worshippers. And there isn't much circumstantial difference between the two. Complainers will always find something to complain about. Worshippers will always find something to praise God about. They simply have different default settings." (From In A Pit With A Lion by Mark Batterson. Multnomah Books, 2006 - pp. 69-70.)

I've been a complainer more often than I care to admit, and that has determined what I see. By the grace of God alone I have also been a worshipper, and that opens my eyes to something entirely different.

What will we chose to see in this next stretch of the river? I'll see you around the next bend.