I used to want to fix people. Now I just want to be with them. Bob Goff

There are, I’ve discovered, some benefits in a season of isolation.

The first is crystal clear hindsight. I look back at life before Stay home, people! and it appears productive, filled with energy and fellowship. That’s because it was. I remember going to the store without factoring in how long I’ll have to wait in line. Like, say, living in Cuba. I remember going to church and greeting folks and hugging folks and worshipping with folks. I remember being in the same room with lots of people less than six feet apart and – do not get me started – not wearing a mask. In my crystal clear hindsight I did not have NEAR enough appreciation for those pleasures.

The second benefit is I’m learning a lot about myself. You probably are, too. Which makes me think of a terrific book.

In his inspiring, high energy, Love Does, Bob Goff makes some brief statements at the start of each chapter. Example:                                                                                                                                                            

• I used to think you had to be special for God to use you, but now I know you simply need to say yes.

Some friends of mine tried this exercise. Here are a few of their thoughts:

• I used to think if you were nice to people, they would like you, but now I know that’s not always true.
• I used to think God was disappointed with me, but now I know I am secure in His favor.
• I used to think friends are forever, but they may not be. Friends can be seasonal. (This provoked a fair amount of conversation.)
• I used to think I knew all the answers, but now I’m sure I don’t.

Take some time to think about this. How are some ways time and experience have altered your opinions or assumptions?

Here’s one of mine:

• I used to try to convince people of the Gospel, but now I know it’s better to love them to Christ.

We go through life collecting assumptions and tacking them on to our behavior.  Fact is, we can end up with loads of mental junk that get in the way of things like:

• healthy family relationships,
• a fresh spiritual perspective, 
• or interesting new friendships.

Goff makes the statement, “We are like human origami. The more creases we have, the more interesting we are.”  The creases of “I used to think” make possible the beauty of “but now I know.”

That’s what I think.

Can you share an example of “I used to think . . . but now I know”?