We had a girls’ outing to pick up Melody from the airport–and her baby girl bun-in-the-oven. Heather and her two daughters were with me as we gathered Mel and her things from the airport and headed for a place to eat. Lunchtime, and no one had
eaten. We had a chorus of grumbly bellies.
Melody’s place of preference? Chick-fil-A. Home of the happy cows who point you consistently to the death of poultry everywhere.
We had lunch, laughing and gabbing about everything and nothing. Syd, at 11, is quite the adult conversationalist. Isley, at 5, is never at a loss for words. So as the food is disappearing and the end of lunch is in sight, Isley asks for ice cream–and so does everyone else around the table.
Everybody likes ice cream. Or a facsimile of it.
Except me. I’ve learned applying it directly to my hips allows me to bypass the whole eating process.
So the girls go to the counter and get four cones. Cones are much more fun than cups–a double eating experience with no waste. After choosing which ones the girls will have, the other two are left to grab the remaining cones.
We talked some more. And everyone finishes.
When asked why she’s so slow, she immediately pointed to her tongue. “Short tongue.” And licked her cone slowly to prove her point.
I couldn’t stop laughing. She didn’t hesitate with the explanation, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Short tongue, slow licker.
I’ve been known to come up with some pretty quick explanations for my behavior. They’re often funny. At times unintentionally so. But these explanations all have one thing in common.
I’ve got a behavior I’m comfortable with. And I’m not changing.
Not even if it’s not the best behavior.
I’ve explained my lack of pursuing my dream of becoming an author to my friend, Ev, by telling her I’m lousy at follow through.
This is true. It’s an area of weakness. It’s not, however, a valid excuse to continue this practice.
I’ve informed folks that I’m not a detail person. Also true. But I act as if it gives me permission to not try writing things down. Or having someone keep me accountable for what I need to finish.
In the big picture of life, God calls these excuses “sin”. Me wanting to do what I want to do without having to change. Selfish self-indulgence.
Which affects other people.
I’m not doing anything really bad. I’m not intentionally hurting others.
But I’m acting in a way that ignores the needs of others.
Often the things that trip me up aren’t the huge issues that would have the world accusing me.
It’s the small things. My “short tongue” issues.
Excuses to continue doing what I want to do. My way.
I need others in my life to point out my “short tongue” excuses.
It just might encourage me to, say, lick a little faster.
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