The car also handles well and gets decent mileage, but has one major, quite annoying flaw — its blind spot.
Backing up, I crane my neck, contort my torso, check the mirrors and inch along — fearful of hitting someone lurking in the area that’s so hard to see.
Driving down the road, I check the mirrors carefully, but every now and again, a car seems to appear out of nowhere in that blasted blind spot.
One day, I realized we all have blind spots, when it comes to our personalities. For example, we may consider ourselves patient, caring people — but others may see things differently.
We may consider ourselves good Christians or faithful Jews, but turn a blind eye to poor and suffering people.
“Dear God,” I prayed, “Would you reveal my hidden flaws to me? What self-image do I cherish that doesn’t match reality?”
The answer came on the evening I discovered I’d booked the wrong dates on my airline reservations — to visit family in Florida.
When my cousin telephoned to gently inform me, I became intensely angry — with myself — for making this error.
That reaction revealed one of my blind spots is pride, since I dislike the idea that I can make dumb mistakes, especially when they’re costly to fix.
As I struggled to forgive myself for getting the dates wrong, I realized it’s hard for me to forgive others who also make mistakes.
In a wonderful book, “Self-Esteem Without Selfishness,” Michel Esparza notes that “Failure to accept one’s own defects leads to intolerance for others’ faults.”
Amen, I thought, when I read that line, because in my childhood, perfect grades, super-clean rooms and model behavior were my mother’s expectations for her kids.
If I came home with all As, for example, and one B, that was the grade she focused on. She also had extremely high standards for herself, constantly dieting to achieve a magazine-cover figure.
Esparza suggests, “A humble and patient approach to our own weaknesses” makes it easier to understand — and forgive — others.
But why is it so easy to detect other people’s faults, when we’re blind to our own? One reason is our friends often are hesitant to divulge our foibles.
It takes courage to tell a coworker his excessive use of cologne is the talk of the office. Courage to mention to a relative that you’re not comfortable in her house, because her dog jumps on you.
A good friend, though, will risk rejection to point out a blind spot, especially one that’s harmful to others.
For example, a parent who harshly criticizes a child, a colleague known to drink “one too many” at office parties, a spouse who loses jobs due to an annoying personality quirk — may have blind spots that are hurting others.
As for me, blind spots keep showing up on my radar. The other day, for example, I had a chance to give my space in line to an elderly lady behind me, but let the moment pass.
Later, I realized the incident revealed my selfishness — because getting home a few moments early took precedence over charity.
Uncovering our hidden flaws can be a lifelong process, but one that reaps many spiritual benefits. As Christ put it, we have to remove the plank from our own eyes before we judge the splinters in others’ eyes.
Now, every time I put my car in reverse, I ask God for the wisdom to discover more blind spots in my life — especially those that threaten to knock other people down, without my knowing it.
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