Being petty is not pretty

You probably know someone like him. Undoubtedly, you have encountered a villain-like character that connives from a personal agenda that is often vindictive and petty.
It happened to me on a non-profit event that I had reluctantly agreed to help. What happened – instigated by one person – was not pretty and, of course, caused myriad problems for other folks who were simply trying to do a good deed. I got embroiled and spent valuable time, enmeshed in the pettiness.
But I learned from it. See, I have discovered in life that mean people can teach us as much as good people. From the good ones, we learn how to behave. From the mean ones, we learn how not to behave.
From the pool of someone else’s pettiness, I caught my own reflection. I was aghast at the ugliness and resolved I didn’t want to look or act like that. Fortunately, he executed his pettiness before I could launch my own. Two women, both of whom had slighted and been downright unkind to me, had called almost simultaneously to ask for my help on different projects they were doing.
I rubbed my hands together in great anticipation, salivated at the chance for the sweet revenge that had dropped in my lap and cackled sinisterly. This was my chance. I had been waiting for it, hoping it would come. The opportunity to say to both of them not only “No!” but “Hell, no!”
But then I saw the ugliness of his pettiness and I abruptly changed course. I didn’t want people to see me the way that folks were seeing him. Instead, I called both women up and said, “Now, tell me what I can do for you. Anything you need, I’ll do.”
And, I did. In fact, I did more than they both asked. Interestingly, I liked the way it felt and I quite enjoyed the view from taking the high road. You can’t see very much, you know, from the gutter.
I was having lunch one day with my friend Kenny Schrader, the NASCAR driver. The waitress talked us both into ordering the special, sea bass. But when she set the plates in front of us, it was salmon. We both stared down at the plates then up at each other.
“We ordered the special,” I said because Kenny would have eaten anything they brought. “Don’t you remember? You talked us into it?”
“Oh no!” she replied. She scurried off, placed a new order and brought the sea bass 20 minutes later.
When we started to leave, I noticed that Kenny had left an enormous tip. “Did you mean to leave this much?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. She got the order wrong and she had to go to all that trouble to straighten it out.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It was her fault that she got the order wrong.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but still. She deserves it for the extra work.”
Now, that’s how we all should act. We should see things through Kenny’s precious eyes and raise people up rather than tearing them down.
Back to the previously mentioned villain. God got involved. Which I always hate when I haven’t asked for His involvement. I kept unintentionally running into scriptures about “recompense not evil with evil” and such. Then my pastor preached that very Sunday on “Love thy enemies and pray for thy offenders.”
I wasn’t much on praying for the villain but I decided it was the thing to do and started as soon as I left church. I pray that he will bite his tongue off so that he will never again be able to speak ugly about anyone or to cause trouble.
And, of course, I pray that it will be painless when it happens.