The Land of :Ish

This past Sunday I facilitated the Spiritual Formation class (to those of you in the Southern Evangelical world: Sunday School) at the church I'm attending but haven't joined. The topic was The God of Forgiveness. I began the lesson by asking, "What is your pet peeve?" After class, a beautiful redhead came up to me, and in a "peeved" voice said, "I can't stand it when people are late to class. We have so much to share, and we always run out of time because they think starting time is only a suggestion!"

Well, to tell the truth, I'm right there with BR (beautiful redhead). And with good reason--or reasons:

• Per Myers Briggs, I'm a(n) ENFJ. My "J" factor is so strong as to be almost off the charts. This means that I like things in order, that I am neat (which I AM NOT!), and I want the rules to be followed, including people being on time--or early for appointments/meetings/etc.
• I come by promptness honestly. I was reared in a pastor's home. Daddy had to go to church early to make sure the building was open, the lights were on, the furnace (or air conditioning) was running properly before the members arrived for Sunday School and church service. Then he'd come back, and Mother would have us children dressed and ready to go at least 30 minutes before Sunday School began. (We lived only two blocks from the church, so travel time was minimal.) Why 30 minutes early? So we could sit quietly to remember what we forgot to do before going to church, what we forgot that we needed to take to church, but more importantly, to allow the Holy Spirit to prepare us for worship. No rushing around like chickens with our heads cut off, mad with each other, cramming into the car only to turn around for a forgotten Bible. Then, we'd make our way to church to be at least 15 minutes early to take care of any needs of the church members before services began.
• Mother was a wizard at meal management. She could put together a five course meal and make certain everything that was to be served cold got to the table cold, and everything that was to be served warm was piping hot. How? She worked backward in the prep schedule. So, salad was in the frig, having been made earlier in the day or earlier in the meal schedule; meat and potatoes were kept warm in the pot; and bread was baked last and served with fragrant steam rising from the basket. In like manner, I was taught to work backward in any schedule, determining how much time it would take for preparation in order for everything, including my toilette, to be ready before the determined deadline. (You'll not be surprised to know that I know the origin of the word "deadline", but that's for another blog.)
• Daddy and Mother taught me that being late was the supreme form of selfishness. Now, it was just fine if others kept me waiting (well, it wasn't just fine with my daddy, but I wasn't allowed to show temper like he did), but I was to arrive a few minutes ahead of the appointed time so that I was not the one holding up the appointment/activity/meeting.
• Then I married Him, the one who thought 15 minutes late was on time. And you can imagine how many times we wended our way to appointments/meetings with me fuming in silence while He pretended not to notice my angst. I remember one time in particular, we were listening to an AM station (yes, there were decent non-talk stations on the air way back then) which announced the time every 5 minutes. Just before the song ended and the time announcement was to be heard, He turned off the radio with a flourish. So, when I was once again on my own, I was relieved to return to my on-timeness.

Fast forward to Now. You know I'm Here, in what I call The Land of :Ish. Stores don't open till 10:00 a.m., but that's only a guideline, not a rule. So don't really come to buy anything until around 10:15 a.m.

I believe most of the residents haven't seen a sunrise in over 50 years, because Son-in-Law II has a rule that if we get to a breakfast place before 9:00 a.m., we can always get immediate service. It's true! Then the others saunter in, rumpled and wrinkled, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and ordering double shot cappucino.

Several months ago, I scheduled a meeting with one of the pastors of the church I'm attending, just to chat and to get to know him and the church denomination. I, of course, was a few minutes early. He called the church secretary at the appointed time to say he was stuck in traffic and would be arriving just a few minutes late. I appreciated the call and enjoyed getting to know the secretary while I waited for him. (She brings her dog to work every day--yes, a story for yet another blog.)

When he came into the office and apologized, he made note that I came to the meeting on time, commenting that promptness is not a universal custom. And just the way he said it let me know that only OLD people are on time.

Now, I'm not among the crowd that arrives 30 minutes before starting time, or eats dinner at 5:00 p.m. (Blue Hair time, my daughters call it). I truly do have a life and can find many fun and interesting activities to fill my time.

AND, an agreed upon meeting time is a PROMISE. People of integrity keep their promises. People who care about other people don't waste another person's time by being tardy. So, I may live in The Land of :Ish, but I will not be OF The Land of :Ish!!

Now, please excuse me while I go hit somebody with my cane!