Ashamed

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Because I haven’t forgotten the wonderful learning tool “SHAME” I often feel ashamed of my behavior. Well, because often I’m a dick. But mostly that’s a backward glance. I’m not a dick with purpose. Sometimes I just say the wrong thing or more often than not – I say the right thing at the wrong time. Or I say an unnecessary comment. And as I work through that examination of conscience, I feel ashamed of myself.

Today I felt ashamed of myself for an entirely different reason. I’ve hired a young man to shovel my sidewalks. Last week I decided I had enough of this weak heart crap and I picked up a broom and I walked outside and I whisked the snow of my steps. And then I came to an abrupt halt. It was a mistake. I was out of breath and my chest hurt. And at that moment – I decided I needed to hire someone. Because I was frightened. The young man arrived this morning to shovel the storm from my sidewalk. And I felt so ashamed of myself. I felt so old and feeble and I felt so embarrassed of my weakness. I’ve never felt less a man or less useful. And I know that’s stupid but it’s how I feel. I’ll get over it. But today I feel useless and weak.

Last week I sat in a bar and a man told me I should be embarrassed of the things I reveal on Facebook. He told me I was embarrassing myself and that his wife felt I was just looking for “pity.” I thought about that. It’s not true. I use Facebook for my friends. If I saw you in the store and you asked me how I am – I’d tell you. This is just me telling you. I’m frightened. I have two things wrong with my heart and this procedure is hopefully going to fix at least one of them. It’s all new to me.

The other day I sat in a waiting room and waited for my Father. I met a woman named Eva. Eva is an elderly black woman from Iowa. She’s a great grandmother. We talked about her health and our lives and our hopes and when we separated we vowed to pray for each other.

I thought that’s how we were supposed to live.

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