It’s a Diesel

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In the Venn diagram of my life, there is no overlap between the subsets of competence and farm equipment.

None.

I have competence in some areas and I do actually own farm equipment. But those circles aren’t even close to touching, much less overlapping.

But thanks to some good friends, they are beginning to inch towards each other.

The other day, one of these friends loaned me an old tractor to till our garden. The forty year-old redneck hoopty is a bit temperamental, can only be started if you know a few tricks, and smells like a combo of rust, oil, and shop dirt.

Realizing my need for a primer on anything requiring more than the turn of a key, he walked me through the basics of how to start this ancient relic. For good measure, he gave solid elementary instruction about each pedal, the pto lever, and ideal tiller adjustments. Rather than download a ton of information that would have flown over my head, this wise guide put me in the driver’s seat and offered patient instruction as he stood alongside.

But the lesson was not devoid of humor. Like any close friend, he took a few good-natured jabs at my ignorance. His ultimate goal, however, was not to insult me, but to increase my level of understanding. He wanted to make sure I knew how to operate the tractor so that I could properly prepare the garden. But more than that, he wanted me to experience the same love for gardening that he does.

Contrast that with another conversation with someone else about the same borrowed tractor. Stumped by an unforeseen issue, I asked another guy for help. Here’s his answer verbatim:

“It’s a diesel.”

That’s all he said. Uh, I get that, but what the heck does that mean?

With three words, he managed to peg my ignorance, label me as a novice, and shut down any chance of a follow-up question. Kind of like when the IT guy at the office answers your question with, “It’s a Mac.” or when a co-worker responds to a request for help with: “Not my problem.”

Or maybe you’ve heard the most universal three-word phrase for those of us in church world: “Praying for you.”

So I started to wonder about why I want to be treated like I was by my friend with the tractor, but more times than I’d like to admit, I find myself responding to requests for help with my own version of a dismissive three-word phrase.

I still don’t have a good answer.

But I do know this; one of the best ways for someone’s circles of competence and anything new to overlap is when someone (like my friend) refuses to dismiss them and instead takes the time to teach them, or rather, makes the time to teach them.

So, the next time you’re tempted to fire off your version of “It’s a diesel,” what if you disciplined yourself to view this more of an opportunity than obstacle and began to meditate on a new three-word phrase? Like: “I’ll make time.” or “This person matters.”

And then voiced something like this: “Tell me more.” “What’s going on?” “Let’s get together.” “Glad to help.”

I mean it.

And what pity he felt for the crowds that came, because their problems were so great and they didn’t know what to do or where to go for help. They were like sheep without a shepherd. “The harvest is so great, and the workers are so few,”  Matthew 9: 36 – 37 (TLB)