Think About it -- What's Your Hurry?

As is often the case when I am taken out of productivity (like this week, as I got 2 knees replaced in surgery on Monday), I find someone else’s writing to be better than mine anyway. This week I didn’t have to look far as my own daughter (who writes for the Timberline Letter) wrote something I want to share. It’s more than my traditional 400 letter documents but I don’t think you’ll mind. If you like this, you might like other nuggets in that publication managed by my brother (Ed Chinn). Here is a link to sign up for more Timberline Letters: https://timberlineletter.substack.com

What’s Your Hurry? By Kara Lea Kennedy

I tore across our field, maxing out the 24 horsepower, zero-turn mowing monster. A day of peaceful yard work quickly turned awry when my husband tromped through the grass, wearing his “I’m a man and I know machines” face. I knew he wasn’t approaching to tell me how pretty I was in my ball cap and tee shirt bearing the image of E.T., so I begrudgingly brought the mower to a stop. He yelled something, cranked the throttle from “happy-go-lucky turtle” to full “rabbit on methamphetamines,” and walked back to his beloved chainsaw.

Interpreting the world too literally almost always lands me in trouble. This case was no different.

I saw the rabbit silhouette as my signal to “give her all she’s got!” So, I bulldozed my way over the trembling fescue grass. Each hole, ridge, and ant pile lifted me violently out of my seat. Field mice ran in terror and crows circled overhead, anticipating the cadavers I was leaving behind. One hour later, finished, I killed the engine and hobbled over to my husband.

“I’m done. But I hurt. Everywhere.”

“Why were you in such a hurry?”

“Because you cranked it up to the rabbit!”

A mix of horror and amusement crossed his face. He grimaced, then told me the rabbit only showed how much power was going to the engine. It was not a “speed directive.”

One week later, the mower was crying out for help. After inspection, the diagnosis was clear: Every bolt that held the engine to the mower had been stripped. The engine clung to the mower like a man hugging a pier after swimming the English Channel.

Power or Speed?

Where might you be sacrificing power for speed? Sometimes this hunger for haste carries hidden costs.

While stationed in Germany, a friend watched with pride as her son zipped around on his tricycle. A German man stood watching. Finally, unable to contain his confusion, he asked my friend, “Is he in circus?” He then produced a balance bike, and, along with it, an education in power vs. speed. With no pedals, riders learn to kick their feet, Fred Flintstone style. They then lift their feet, using new muscles to keep them atop that rolling contraption. That’s how they learn balance. The transition to pedals will come after they master balance.

Slow Growth

A sign that hung in my grandma’s kitchen for years still speaks to me: “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get!” Doing puzzles at her kitchen table while waiting for noodles to dry on sheets of brown paper, I decided I didn’t want a life of speed.But I did want power. Why? Power can carry people and things, giving a lift to those in need. Speed is usually solitary; it leaves others behind. That’s probably why I’ve always loved trains more than race cars.

We spend a lot of time racing to the next item on the list, despising the adage that “slow and steady wins the race.” I get it. “Slow and steady” is often painful. It makes you absorb and suffer things you prefer to skip. Proverbs 20:21 says, “An inheritance quickly gained will not be blessed in the end.” We often gain great power while moving at a slow and gentle pace. You have to let it overtake you.

Think About it

Who are you supposed to take with you? Are you their ride to life’s higher ground?

Can they catch you? Or are they barely hanging on?