Influence: More Than a Grumpy Old Man
On Sunday at Oakbrook during the Advance series we heard a message about how as followers of Jesus who are called to love each other, we can and should be influencers in everything we do. We watched a powerful video that featured several different people explaining that there’s more to them than meets the eye.
“I’m more than just a pregnant teen who you think is a bad influence on your kids—I’m a lonely girl with no father figure, and I’m watching you to see how to be a mom”.
“I’m more than just the grouchy lady who is always in her garden. Gardening is the only thing that makes me feel useful since the divorce. I heard you became a Christian. I’m watching you to see how your life changes.”
“I’m more than just your mechanic. I’m physically and emotionally worn out by years of working underneath cars. I’m looking for someone to show me something that will help me keep moving forward”
“I’m more than just the accountant in the corner cubicle. I have a child with a disability and a wife who is losing her smile. I know you’re a Christian. I’m watching you to see your definition of success”.
Me, I work for an insurance company. I was called to the front desk to serve a walk-in customer. When I got there I found that the customer waiting was an old man with white hair, white shoes, white socks pulled up to his shins, as much hair in his ears as was on his head, hearing aids, and a frown on his face. I know this type. Hard of hearing, grouchy, upset with me personally because I’m the face of the company, probably because he’s confused by a bill he received.
He was upset to see me because he is usually helped by another lady I work with, but we’ve moved to a new rotating model where people aren’t assigned to a particular agent anymore. His attitude annoyed me because I knew that I could answer his questions and service his account as well as the lady he wanted to see.
I did my best to speak loudly and be friendly. When he again said, “Usually it’s a lady that helps me”, I said, “Is it ok if a man helps you this time?” with a cheesy overtone, hoping he’d pick up on my humor. He dismissed it by mumbling something incoherent as we made our way down to the office where I was taking him.
When we sat down, he said sternly, “I’ve got some questions about my policy”. Here we go. He’s had auto insurance for 60 years and he still doesn’t get how it works? Trying not to be annoyed, I prepare myself to loudly answer some basic insurance questions.
He produced a small card from his pocket and said, “I’ve lost my wife…” and trailed off, visibly upset. The card was from her funeral. It had her picture on the inside with her favorite bible verse. She looked like a sweet lady. She’s been gone for a month. He said, “I’m not doing well with it…I’ll never be the same without her.” His eyes were distant and searching; he really just didn’t know how to go on.
Inside I’ve got a hurricane of emotions and thoughts: I’m such a jerk!; I want to go home and hold my wife, right now; what is his insurance-related question going to be?; poor guy; don’t cry, Cameron! Do not cry.
I realized at that moment that I was no longer an insurance agent, but an influencer.
I realized that this man was more than just a grouchy old man. He’d lost his beloved wife, and he was looking for comfort. He’s reaching the end of his life and he doesn’t have many people he can talk to. This card he fidgeted with in his trembling hands was all that was left of the love of his life, the woman he shared years of joy, laughter, and tears with.
I couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like if a small piece of card stock was all that was left of my beloved Karissa. I could’ve thrown up, it made me so sad.
Turns out he was going to sell one of his vehicles because she wouldn’t be driving it anymore, and he wanted to know how to get it removed from his policy. That’s all. The reason he was so upset about not being helped by the lady he usually works with is because he knew that she knew his wife from helping her in the past, and he wanted to show her the card and let her know that his wife had passed. Somewhat breaking protocol, I went and got the associate he used to work with.
He told both of us the heartbreaking story of how his wife got sick, how he had held her hand and called her “baby doll” and asked her to squeeze it if she could hear him, and how she softly squeezed his hand not once but twice, just to make sure he knew that she understood what was happening. Then he told us how he was holding her hand when she passed. He said, “If there’s a heaven, she’s there”.
I’ll be honest, it wasn’t an easy situation. There were a lot of awkward silences as my associate and I tried to find things to say, and he went into greater detail about her sickness and surgeries than what I’m comfortable with hearing. We endured and gave our sympathetic smiles and condolences the best we could; since he was hard of hearing, it made it difficult to say anything meaningful.
When he got up to leave, my associate gave him a hug, and he offered to let her keep the card since he had more. She barely knew the lady, but graciously said, “I would love to keep it”. I was proud of her for that. He needed to know that his wife still meant something to the world. Then he turned and shook my hand and said, “I’m sorry, young man. I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t do your job well. You took real good care of me, and I appreciate it”.
A sense of humility washed over me as I again got the sense that the Lord had entrusted me with an opportunity to influence one of his hurting children. I put my hand on his back and offered to walk him back up to the front of the building, saying “It’s easy to get lost in here!” As I held the front door open for him, he slowly turned and mustered up a smile as he looked me in the eye and said, gently, “thank you”. It was the kind of thank you that you give someone when they’ve done more for you than they realize, and I knew it.
As I walked back to my part of the building, another lady that had worked with him before jokingly said, “Did he tell you his life’s story?” and smiled. I said, “Kind of. His wife just passed away.”
I went and stood outside for a minute, in an extremely sentimental and reflective mood now. I watched the breeze blow through the trees. As some dry leaves tumbled by, I thought about how life changes. For me it was a beautiful, ordinary day. For this man, it was another tough day to get through without his wife.
As I ponder our mortality and our finiteness, I am grateful for the Lord’s permanence. And as I compare the old man I had perceived with the old man I met, I am grateful for the message of influence I heard at Oakbrook, and for the guidance of the Holy Spirit to remind me that I am an influencer, even in the seemingly mundane moments of life.
