Value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.—Philippians 2:3–4 (niv)
As I pulled into the parking spot, Sunrise, my golden retriever, stuck her head between the seats of my station wagon, begging for a scratch. I ruffled her silky fur and said, “I’ve got a busy afternoon catching up on e-mails.” Several were from a group of professionals who contributed wonderful tips. I groaned. And I’m the professional lurker. I felt like they all knew more than I did, so I never contributed anything.
I popped some candy pieces into my mouth, stuffed the half-eaten package between the seats, and raced into the store to buy some milk. When I returned, I noticed that Sunrise was in the front seat with the candy package dangling between her teeth.
Fumbling in my pocket for the keys, I banged on the door and yelled, “Drop it!” But instead, she gulped like a bird swallowing a fish. By the time I unlocked the door and pried apart her jaws, the candy was gone. “You hog! You wanted to make sure that you ate every last one because you didn’t want to share.”
What about you? I heard. I grimaced. I’d been skimming advice from the group but hadn’t done anything to share. The rest of the afternoon I read e-mails and returned the best I had: words of encouragement.
