|
|
Monday, April 27, 2009 7:20 AM
"Gas at the corner of 462 and Strasburg Pike is only $3.37. Thought you would want to know so you can fill up," said Les's message one day last summer.
"Only $3.37?!" Interesting that we found that a great price. Now, when our local gas price is $1.98 a gallon, that $3.37 is ridiculous. Three years ago, it would have been unheard of, highway robbery. Last August it was a bargain.
It's all a matter of perspective. Our perspective changes everything. The "housing crisis" doesn't seem like much of a crisis unless it's your home that's not selling (when your job has already moved to another state, like Les's) or you suddenly can't afford your mortgage payments. Then it's devastating. I've been having trouble this week with my perspective on that unsold house in Delaware. I've gone from worrying about it, and begging God to sell it, to resignation and (attempted) trust that God is taking care of things. I've tried to praise him for all the ways he cares for us. It's not always easy, and my perspective shifts rapidly.
That's what makes Jones interesting, and needed. Jones is the mysterious old stranger—the Christ figure—in Andy Andrews new book The Noticer. Jones appears in people's lives at just the moment they need him to help them gain a little perspective. For instance, in the first chapter Jones asks the homeless Andy, who's been living under a pier, what, and where, they are eating. "Sardines and Vienna sausages in the sand" is his answer. Jones, however, believes he's "dined on surf and turf with an ocean view." Perspective changes everything.
In every chapter, Jones teaches the person or people he encounters a lesson about perspective. At first, because Andy the author was the initial character, I assumed this was a memoir, a nonfiction book. But then I began to realize it had to be an allegory, an inspirational story. I found myself wondering if any of it were true. Was there a Jones in Andy's early life who taught him perspective or was it all fiction? It took away from my enjoyment of the book a bit because I kept trying to find a definitive answer (I even googled it, looking for its library classification).
That being said, I read the book very quickly, because it was hard to break away from it. Andrews is a good writer. The story is compelling; Jones is intriguing. What was in the suitcase he carries everywhere? Where does he go when he isn't seen around the small town of Orange Beach, Alabama? How did he become so wise? Would we ever find out?
The perspective Jones gives people includes many profound lessons we would all be wise to apply. Some seem to come straight from someone else's best-seller: There are the four love "dialects," which echo four of Gary Chapman's Five Love Languages (he is only missing Gifts). One of his lessons is the title of John Ortberg's book, When the Game Is Over, It All Goes Back in the Box. Another is the fork-at-the-funeral story that has been circulating on the Internet for years. They're still worth being reminded of, however.
But there are new insights that made me stop and think, ponder how they might change my life, and believe I would read the book again . . . soon. Here's one from the first chapter: "Whatever you focus upon, increases. . . . A grateful perspective brings happiness and abundance into a person's life. . . . When we are happy and enthusiastic, other people enjoy being around us. And knowing that one's opportunities and encouragement come from people, what happens to a person everyone enjoys being around? They get more opportunities and encouragement . . . And success becomes inevitable." All that made sense. But his action step was the most profound part: "How does one become a person other people want to be around? Ask yourself this question every day: ‘What is it about me that other people would change if they could?'" Jones goes on to explain this isn't about living life according to "the whims of others." It's about perspective. "And another person's perspective about you can sometimes be as important as your perspective about yourself."
I dare you to ask yourself that question every day. I need to put it as a pop-up on my computer or something so I don't forget. I can see its potential to change my life for the better, even if it's scary. And when you get a chance, read The Noticer; it just might give you a whole new perspective.
Past Entries
April 28, 11:33 AM ET
|