Getting Past My Fear of Rejects

I was preparing to have lunch in a cafeteria recently. I procured a tray, a spoon, and a knife without incident. But when I peered into the fork container, I shrieked in horror to discover that there was only one lonely, solitary fork left. Instinctively I picked it up but quickly placed it back in its dwelling once my good senses prevailed. For the record, I did not touch the prongy part.

I would like to tell you that I acted unselfishly to assure that the next person in line would not be forkless. But that would be an untruth. There were actually three reasons why that particular fork neither made its way onto my tray and nor eventually into my mouth.

Reason number one pertains to a particular prong which was slightly unaligned with the other three on said fork. Though not a problem to most normal folks, an out-of-line prong drives me absolutely bonkers with every bite.

A flashback of a recent experience at a restaurant provided the basis for reason number two. I had pulled the family van full of Stroupes into the overflowing parking lot only to discover that indeed there was a single parking spot available. The truck in front of me drove right past it so I proudly wheeled into the spot without hesitation.

Only when I got out of the van did I discover that the driver of the truck had stopped and was attempting to back into the spot when I cut him off. He angrily shook his fist and called me all sorts of names that I couldn’t decipher. But I got the message. Just when I was about to walk over to his truck to explain, my wife advised me to get back in and transport the Stroupes to an alternate eating establishment. Lesson: Don’t take the last one of anything unless you’re willing to fight for it.

I’m hesitant to share reason number three but since I’ve teased you so far, here it is. I couldn’t get past the fact that the little neglected fork had been passed by for some reason I was not aware of. It must have been snubbed time and time again for a legitimate purpose, I supposed. And I assumed greasy hands had handled and discarded it just as I had. Unwilling to be my own man, I went with the crowd and rejected the poor little fork simply because everyone else had.

Later that afternoon, I couldn’t help but thinking how God chose reject after reject to accomplish His mighty purposes in the Bible. Let’s see, there’s David, Rahab the prostitute, Joseph and his coat of many colors, and even a few of Jesus’ disciples. Several of the finest generals in American history graduated either last or near the bottom of their classes at West Point.

Throw in famous rejects like Rudolph and Sea Biscuit and a pattern emerges.

Therefore, I have decided that I will take the last fork in the container if given another opportunity. It may be destined for fork greatness in some way. And who am I to stand in the way of history in the making. I’ll grasp the fork proudly, by golly. I will, however, wash it off before using it.