Your Place or Mine?

If you clicked on this evening's post thinking it would be a racy tale of a candlelight dinner, a walk in the park and drinks at the local tavern followed by a steamy romantic late-night encounter, prepare to be tremendously disappointed. I probably should apologize for my somewhat misleading title choice for tonight's post ... nah ... sometimes it's good to have a little fun and be a bit mischievous. My guess is I'm not the only one who tends to be too serious ... life's too short to be so serious all the time. In fact, I think we'd all be much better off if we played more and worried less.

When my three kiddos were young, they were big fans of Michael W. Smith, who is probably one of the most successful Christian singers of all time. The truth is I was just as big a fan of Mr. Smith as my children were ... maybe even more so. It wasn't just my kids who knew the words to every one of Michael W. Smith's songs, and they weren't the only ones singing along each time we popped in one of his CDs. Though I was quite moved by many of Mr. Smith's songs, there are two in particular that I often find myself humming even now all these years later and one of those songs has been playing in my head for the last several days ... "Place in This World."

I work with a lot of young folks, and though I have no idea why they do, several of them really seem to like me. They like me enough to invite me to tag along with them on their unusual lunch outings ... trust me when I say you haven't fully experienced life until you've dined at the weird taco place down the street from our office with a group of young guys on Taco Tuesday. You can also trust me when I tell you that more than one of those young guys has received a free t-shirt from said weird taco place for eating 10 tacos in one sitting. While it's a ton of fun to watch the guys eat more tacos than any human should ever eat, that's not why I love going to lunch with this group of fine young men. It's the conversation that I love ... it's listening to these young men talk about their hopes and dreams, their fears and failures, their search for their place in this world ... that's what I love most about my lunches with the guys.

While I was lunching with the young men a week or so ago, a thought popped into my mind ... a thought I've been unable to shake ... a thought that may well be one of the biggest thoughts I've had in a long, long, long time. Just a few short months ago, I wouldn't have ever believed that part of my place in this world would include such sweet friendships as I now share with these young men. And had I listened to the voice of fear and doubt and unworthiness that's always playing in my mind ... had I given heed to that inner voice telling me it wasn't my place to be friends with these guys, I would have missed out on knowing some of the coolest, most interesting, intelligent, kindhearted, wonderful fellows I've ever known. I don't care how many servers or patrons of various restaurants look surprised to see this old gray-haired girl lunching and laughing it up with my gang of guys, I wouldn't trade my place with my buds for anything.

See, here's the thing, friends ... we all need to stop worrying about whether it's your place or mine to speak up and make a difference. It's not your place or mine ... it's ours.