I just bumped my elbow on the doorknob to my office. It was a clean hit to my funny bone and I've got that tingling sensation in my right forearm. "Ow. That sucks," I mutter under my breath. I hate it when anything happens to me; I have a knack of complaining about any inconvenience that comes my way.

I met this guy last night named Mike. He's a youth minister out in Mount Orab, Ohio. He's been sick for a few months and the doctors still aren't quite sure what it is. They've decided it's either some sort of lung infection or lung cancer. Either way, he's undergoing surgery next week to have the top part of one of his lungs removed. Now what I wish you could have seen is the matter of factness that Mike displayed in talking about his situation. His confidence in God was glowing throughout his being; he had a true faith that, whatever happens, there is One who is in control. It was amazing. Interestingly enough, as I shook his hand while saying good-bye, I got a papercut on my pinkie from a folder he was carrying.

Like most Americans, I'm obsessed with me [not "me" meaning Steve Carr, but "me" meaning themselves]. If it isn't happening to me, I don't care nearly as much. Which is worse: a severe paper cut or cancer? Unfortunately, if you're really honest with yourself, it usually depends on which one you've got. That papercut seems more real because I'm living through it. That's why God continually grants us perspective- the ability to look at life from a differing point of view. I need it daily. Perspective forces me to stop focusing on every minuscule detail of Steve and look at what others are going through. This exemplifies our need for other people in order to get along in this world. Without a network of people to offer perspective, you'll lift yourself up as the most important thing in this world- becoming an affront to God, worshipping yourself as an idol. Self-centeredness is a struggle, but it needs to be defeated.

My elbow doesn't even tingle anymore.