Pushing Buttons

Nate had no idea I was about to push his buttons.

But I did.

Saturday afternoon, hot as blazes, no shirt, hole torn shorts, sweating, taking a break from cutting grass and catching up with my oldest daughter.

I looked up and a very clean cut young man, looking like he just stepped out of “I Am An All-American” Magazine, is walking across my freshly cut grass in our direction.

After the opening pleasantries, Nate, his name was Nate, I did not get up from the rocking chair I was sitting in. I probably looked like the homeless rather than the homeowner.  He went into his presentation on pest control…sincere…he believed in what he was selling, so I let him get through the initial points and each time I would politely say, “We’re good but thank you.”

My daughter knowing what was coming excused herself and went inside when I said, “Would you like to continue to discuss my need for pest control, or would you like to talk about something that matters?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

That is when I started pressing Nate’s buttons.

I began to discover a lot about Nate through a series of questions.

That he is a Business Major at Brigham Young University in Utah, that he loves his family, that he came to Georgia as a summer job because this is where the bugs are.

Then I asked him these questions, one right after another.

“What makes your heart beat faster?”  Why were you put on this earth?  What were you born to do?”

The last question gave each of us pause.

Nate said, “I don’t know.”

My reply?

“Nate, I don’t believe you.  I believe you do know and you have known since you were a kid and have never told anyone.”

He just looked at me.

I have seen this look before as I have previously asked these questions of others, and his follow-up question did not surprise me, I knew it was coming.

Nate asked, “Then what were you born to do?”

I said, “Push people’s buttons.  I just wish it paid more.”

A few moments later Nate had to get going, so I stood and extended my dirty and sweaty hand and said, “I’m John, Nate, you were intended for a specific purpose.  Chase it.”

Then Nate was gone, heading down the street, leaving with a lot more to think about than when he arrived.

We each have a specific purpose with unique gifts.

All the money in my pocket says you know what it is, whether you have ever voiced it to anyone else or not.

When you dwell on it, your heart beats faster and you think to yourself, “If only…”

I have known mine since I was a kid…to push people’s buttons…I just wish it paid more.