Be Cute When You Get There
Come this April, I will have lived in Los Angeles for 20 years—longer than I have ever lived anywhere else. When I first relocated here, a friend of mine told me that it wouldn’t be long before I would fall in love with the weather. He was right. As a native of New York, it is still hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that in January the temperature can be 70 degrees Farenheit. This same friend also warned me that I should spend considerable time planning my future excursions from Los Angeles, because the warm climate of our city “would thin my blood.” and make it very uncomfortable when I traveled to other regions.
As is often the case with sound advice, I heard him, but I really didn’t hear him. During my first few winter seasons, I assiduously sought to avoid unnecessary travel back east, except for the Thanksgiving Holiday. And for the past several years (much to my surprise) the weather during those trips hasn’t been too bad: not too cold, no snow, and few delays. It has been so good that I jettisoned my usual preparation and have just started throwing a jacket in a bag—and off we would go.
A few days ago I was asked to deliver the eulogy at the funeral service of a dear friend of mine. The service was held in a city that is notorious for its chilly weather. I checked to see what the temperature would be. But the temperature didn’t register as it should have. I pretty much ignored the data. I thought to myself—”it shouldn’t be that bad.” As we left en route to the airport, my wife asked me if I thought I needed a larger, warmer coat. “Nah,” I hastily replied. Part of me really didn’t think it would be that cold. But in all honesty, the biggest part of me wanted to wear the jacket that I had on—which although wasn’t too warm was incredibly stylish. LOL.
Of course you know how this story ends. We arrived for the funeral. AND. IT. WAS.FREEZING!!! To her credit, Mrs. Robinson did not say I told you so, although I know she wanted to do so very badly. But the entire experience did make me remember something that my mother used to tell me all the time growing up. She used to say “be cute when you get there.” Ignoring my Mother’s counsel and my Wife’s gentle reminder resulted in an extremely uncomfortable trip. Thin blood plus a scanty jacket plus 30 degree weather is neither a formula for comfort nor warmth. Moreover, the entire affair could have been avoided had I been more concerned with being warm than I was with being stylish. I have warmer coats. But none as stylish as the one I wanted to wear. So I looked good freezing lol.
That experience reminded me that looking good is often at odds with successful and effective behavior. Sometimes we have to be willing to look less than our best or even bad to secure a positive long term outcome. “Be cute when you get there” means that it is better to surrender optics for opportunity, perception for payoff, and recognition for results. So here’s today’s question: are you willing to look bad for a short time to enjoy success for a longer time?
That was essentially the decision that a man had to make who Jesus encountered in John 9. Although the man did not ask to be healed, he did not raise any objections when Jesus initiated his orthodox approach to this particular miracle. This is what happened:
Then (Jesus) spit on the ground, made mud with the saliva, and spread the mud over the blind man’s eyes. He told him, “Go wash yourself in the pool of Siloam” (Siloam means “sent”). So the man went and washed and came back seeing!
Much is made of the fact that Jesus put a spit-based concoction on the man’s face. And yes, that is—well, an unorthodox approach to healing. (that may be the understatement of the year). But to me, a much more significant issue often goes unaddressed. The spit-based concoction was not only applied to his face—but it remained on his countenance until he arrived at the pool of Siloam. By most estimates, the pool of Siloam was ten to fifteen miles away. So what a gruesome, unappetizing sight that must have been. Let’s be honest: it was downright nasty! To see a blind man walking in the precincts of the temple with a mud-based saliva cocktail dripping down his face claiming that he was going to be healed must have elicited shrieks of disbelief and gales of laughter. The unnamed man did look bad a little while. But when he returned from the pool, he had received his sight! He wasn’t cute on the way there. But he was cute when he got back.
You can’t always look good when you are on your way to greatness. Seldom, if ever does the journey to the Promised Land resemble the runway at a fashion show in Paris. Rarely, if ever, can you act like a model as you move toward destiny. But take my Mother’s advice: be cute when you get there!