Admit you were wrong. You know you made a mistake and it hurt someone, and you haven’t acknowledged it yet. Do so, and ask forgiveness.

Yeah. This is a tough one, isn’t it? Possibly the hardest one we’ve ever done here at ISWU. It involves swallowing your pride, sacrificing your own desires, and putting others first. It’s not easy to do. I understand, because I just had to do this yesterday. If you want to know what I’m talking about, you can read the story.

Doing this tiny little act for an area in your own life this week, however, has huge potential rewards. It can mend relationships. It can set you back on the right path, if you’ve been going down the wrong one. It can change your perspective. And that’s another way to change your part of the world, right?

There’s probably a few folks you know who you need to admit you’re wrong to, right?

So what did the team at It Starts With Us do this week?

I thought this one was a really good idea. Most of the time, doing nice things for people feels amazing, but apologies are something which are a lot harder to give because, let’s be honest, apologising can sometimes feel HORRIBLE. An apology is one of the most selfless things we can do because it can make the other person feel much better at the expense of our own pride.

Recently, I lied to my best friend. To cut a very long story short, she had lent me some money, and I was unable to pay her back when I said I would. Rather than tell her, I just tried to keep putting it off and putting it off. Eventually she discovered how dire my circumstances were, but she was devastated that I had felt the need to lie and was afraid that I thought she was some sort of ogre that I couldn’t approach. She and I came to an agreement about a realistic time for me to pay her back, but I knew I had hurt her feelings and until tonight wasn’t sure what to do about it.

I felt like the mission was a sign! I called her and I explained that it was my stupid pride that had stopped me being honest with her. I said I was too afraid to admit how bad things were, that it was wrong of me and that I was sorry and willing to do whatever to regain her trust. She appreciated the apology, so much so that it made her cry (which set me off too ). Now I feel like our relationship is back on track, and I no longer have to live with the squirmy guilty feeling that I had hurt her and done nothing about it.

I recommend this mission to everyone…it seems daunting but it really does make such a difference.

This is going to be a really hard mission.. I hate apologizing (probably because of my pride), but I’ve found that if I’ve done something wrong, saying sorry may not fix it, but it makes me feel a little better getting it out in the open. Often lately, my best friend and I seem to have gotten so different that we’re constantly on guard and thinking of everything we say before we say it. Even then, we tend to get into arguments. Standing back, looking at the big picture, and seeing that the argument is stupid helps me to realize that we’re both wrong, but if one of us simply wounds our pride enough to admit it, alot of things would be forgiven. So. Yeah.

I found this one hard. I’ve been needing to apologise to my mum for a while, but I kept putting it off and justifying it to myself. Now I’ve done it, and things are so much better already- it was worth it

This mission was possibly the most challenging one I’ve had yet. After reading it, I sat there for the best part of two hours reflecting on what’s happened this year and I found that there was someone I just had to speak to. I’m generally a confident person but this mission really did manage to shake me up a treat. Not because of admitting I was in the wrong but more so the subject matter.

Forgive me for not sharing the details. It’s incredibly personal and the conversation lasted several hours but the important thing is the outcome was good and the mission is successfully accomplished =]

Nate, thank you for this one. Perfectly timed as ever.

What did YOU do this week?

Amazing! Another great week for the folks participating in It Starts With Us. Join us today and share your success stories!

Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/halfchinese/139499559/Similar Posts:

• Why I Do What I Do
• A Celebration of Life
• Time For A Gut Check
• Return The Favor

It wasn’t until my freshman year at college that I was truly able to befriend myself. During the first few weeks of school my roommate would return to our room drunk and crying about a boy in a tracksuit from the first floor that was breaking her heart. Seeing her hurt, hurt me so, I focused all of my energy on being there for her. I convinced myself that I should stay up until 4 a.m. telling her that she was pretty, talented and a good person. I meant all of these things, but the mornings would wake us up after a few hours of sleep and I was mentally drained. Unable to pay attention in class, my dedication to schoolwork weakened.

As the weeks progressed her outbreaks intensified and we no longer had equal conversations as our time together revolved around her problems. I wanted to help her. I thought, “I am a good person I should help her,” but in that process I forgot about myself. I was her friend, but not my own as I would tell her precisely what she wanted to hear instead of being honest. I could not truly be a good friend because I was not being honest with myself. I needed to be my friend first. I had stop being upfront with myself, disregarding necessary things like time alone, or being kind to myself. I decided to give myself time to meditate, read, do yoga and simple actions to let my energy balance out so that when she would come to me, I could be level-headed and not feel as if I had sacrificed so much of myself.

Having compassion for yourself is being able to step back from the situation and look at how you are reacting. Are you getting irritated with those around you because of their actions or is it because you have not gotten a full night sleep in days? Do you find yourself jealous of someone’s fortune because you think you deserve it or because you have not provided yourself with time to cultivate that talent?

If you want to do good, feel good, be good you must remember that you are good.

Don’t forget to love yourself first. The moments where we love ourselves pierce through the sadness and when you truly sparkle every one else can feel the light.Similar Posts:

• Admit You Were Wrong Recap
• A New ItStartsWith.Us Project: Love Drop
• Sharing The Joy: Love Bombs
• Use Your Influence
• Why I Do What I Do

I’d also like to sincerely thank all of you for being a part of ItStartsWith.Us this year. We’ve made a big difference in the lives of thousands of people in the six months we’ve been doing this, and I have personally grown more than I ever thought I would, thanks in large part to people like you. 2010 is going to be a great year for us . . . I’m working hard to take this project to the next level, and I appreciate all the support I know you’ll give as we grow.

Again, thank you for being a part of the team. It’s been an honor to serve with you this year.

Merry Christmas,
Nate

Similar Posts:

• Where We’re Going
• Our First Open-Source Project
• 2,000 People And No Fights
• Give It Away
• Admit You Were Wrong Recap

Has someone made a difference in your life recently? Think about what they did for you and how it made you feel, and then go and be that difference for someone else. Of course it doesn’t have to be exactly the same, but the point is to reflect on ways that you have been impacted by someone, and then pass on a variation of that action to someone else, so they can experience the same benefit that you did.

I really like this mission because it gets us to think about some of the ways we have been impacted by others recently, and hopefully helps us all realize that there are many things people do for us that we have possibly taken for granted, so we can be a little more aware of them the next time they occur.

This was my favorite story from all those who reported in:

This weekend I got the awesome chance to run in the Make-A-Wish 5k. I’ve been running for about 4 years now and am totally addicted to it. I also love the Make-A-Wish charity. But what made the run special was that my husband decided to do it with me. He’s not a runner… never has been, but decided that he would do this with me in honor of his brother who recieved a Wish (to see Big Bird) when he was little. We got about 4 practice runs in before hand… not a lot for someone who’s never ran.

I’ve been practicing my speedwork a little this summer and part of me really wanted to go for a PR. But as I stood at the starting line, I remembered doing my first 1/2 marathon this spring, and how my friend Donna ran with me the whole time. I felt like walking numerous times and told her that she could go on with out me. But she kept with me, and kept encouraging me. She said “we’re going to make it to the finish line together, without walking, no matter how slow we have to go” and we did. I realized how wonderful that was of her to stick with me and told myself that I was going to do the same for my husband. So we ran the race together, and I encouraged him the whole way.

I am so happy that Donna encouraged me, and that I was in turn able to encourage my husband. It was a great experience to share together, and we are now planning to run the Children’s Hosptial 8k on October 10th.

I don’t think I can add anything of value to this awesome story, so I’m not even going to try.

If you’d like to join us on our next mission, just put your name and email address in the boxes below. No BS, no spam. Just small missions to make a difference in this world – in 15 minutes a week.

Similar Posts:

• Can You Change The World With $2.00?
• Dropping Love Bombs
• Admit You Were Wrong Recap
• You And A Friend
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Nate vs. The Airport

Well, the reason I don’t post funny stories here is because this isn’t a humor website. But I’m nothing if not indulgent, and since I don’t have a timely “change the world” story to share at the moment, I suppose I can break from tradition for a day and post a really long story that nobody cares about something entertaining.

Here’s what I wrote about my recent trip to L.A.

Enjoy.

[Names have been changed to protect the innocent.]

Amy and the kids have been in L.A. for a week and a half. I’ve missed them a lot; I’m bored and lonely, and I can’t wait to see them. I have a flight leaving Milwaukee at 2:00 PM. My dad comes to pick me up at 12:15, and we’re at the airport by 12:30. Middle of the day, not many cars in the ticketing/check-in lane for United. Beautiful. I say goodbye to my dad and walk in. There are only three people in line at the United ticket counter, and within two minutes I find myself next in line behind two people, both of whom are being helped by the two attendants. There’s a self-check-in machine open, though, so I decide to give it a go.

The machine asks for a passport, ticket, or major credit card to get started. I don’t own a passport, and I always travel with e-tickets, not paper tickets, so I swipe my credit card. It then asks for another piece of information to confirm my identity. The options are: confirmation number, ticket again, Mileage Plus number, or verify departure date. I remember that the confirmation number is on the counter at home, but I assume it’s also on my itinerary. I pull it out and take a look. It’s not. Next down the list . . . ticket. Ticket? I don’t have a ticket. If I did, I would’ve swiped it first. Next. Mileage Plus number. I don’t belong to any rewards programs for any airlines, so I move on to the last one: Verify Departure Date. Easy enough. I go to that screen, and I see three big options: July 9th, July 10th, and July 12th. I check my cell phone. July 11th. I look back at the screen. Everything but the 11th. Glance back at the phone, then back at the screen. I stand there for another couple seconds in utter confusion. Then I decide to just check in with the guy behind the counter. I hit “Exit” and re-take my place in line.

When I get to the front, the guy is very friendly and helpful. His name is Jeff. I would come to know him well.

JEFF: Hi there! Where you headed?
NATE: Chicago on the 2:00, then on to L.A. at 5:00.
J: Great. Can I see your driver’s license, please?
N: Sure, here you go.
(he punches some things up on the computer, I wait)
J: Okay, can I see your ticket?
N: What?
J: Your ticket, can I see it?
N: I don’t have a ticket.
J (looking at his screen): Says here you were issued paper tickets.
N: (confused): But I wasn’t – I always have an e-ticket.
J: Hmm. These tickets were purchased on the Mileage Plus plan, and paper tickets were issued.
N: (realization dawning): Ohhhh, that’s right – my father-in-law bought these tickets with his plan, that’s right. But I don’t have the tickets.
J: Well, that’s a problem.
N: Why? He paid for them, right?
J: Yes.
N: And I’m listed as the passenger, right?
J: Yes.
N: And you do have a seat reserved on the plane for me, right?
J: Yes.
N: Then why is it a problem?
J: Because I can’t let you on the plane without a ticket.
N: Why not?
(Jeff then launches into a very long and detailed explanation about exactly why one can’t board the plane without a ticket. Nate is duly convinced.)
N: Okay, I know I’m supposed to have a ticket, but the fact is I don’t. So what do we have to do to figure this out?
J: Well, you should call the Customer Service number on the back of your Mileage Plus card and see if they can swap your paper tickets for an e-ticket.
N: Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks.

I walk over to a seat by the window and bust out the cell phone. I then realize that I do not have a Mileage Plus card, so I don’t have the number for Customer Service. So I call Amy, who should be with her dad. No answer. I calmly leave a message saying it’s an emergency, and to call me back right away. I then think I can get the number off the web, so I call Adam at DS. As it’s ringing, I realize that two days ago he told me his phone had finally died for good. I hang up and call Kyle. He answers right away.

NATE: You got a minute to help a brother out?
Kyle: Sure, man.
N: I need the number for Customer Service for United’s Mileage Plus.
(he finds it and gives it to me)
N: Thanks buddy.
K: No problem.

I call the number and get the computer.

COMPUTER: Welcome to United’s blah blah blah. Using your voice, please select from the following options, blah blah blah.
N: Account Services.
C: Thank you. Please start by giving me your Mileage Plus number.
N: …
C: I didn’t catch that. Please restate your Mileage Plus number.

I hang up. I need to get in touch with Jack to figure out what his card number is. But I don’t have his phone number, and Amy hasn’t called me back yet. I call my brother Dan, who I know has Jack’s number. No answer there, either. I leave a message. I call Kyle back.

K: Yeah?
N: One more thing. Could you go to Whitepages.com and find a number for me?
K: Sure.
(I give him Jack’s info, and he looks for a long time, under a lot of different options, and can’t find it.)
K: Are you sure he doesn’t have an unlisted number?
N: No. But I don’t think he does.
K: Well, I’m not seeing it here, man. Sorry. And I have a meeting in like 2 minutes that I have to run to.
N: No problem; thanks for the help.
K: Yeah, sorry I couldn’t find it. Good luck.
N: Thanks.

I’m just about to head back to the ticket counter when Dan calls. He gives me the number for Jack’s house. I call down there and get Maria, his wife from Mexico City. It’s a little hard to understand her, because my cell phone has notoriously low volume, she has a formidable accent, and it’s loud in the airport. Nevertheless, I get the Mileage Plus number from her.

I call back Customer Service and get the computer.

C: Welcome to United’s blah blah blah. Using your voice, please select from the following options, blah blah blah.
N: Account Services.
C: Thank you. Please start by giving me your Mileage Plus number.
(I give it.)
C: Thank you. I’ll need one more piece of identification to verify the account. Please give me the zip code of the account holder.
N: …
C: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Please restate–
N: Operator.
C: I’ll transfer you to the next available agent.
(I’m absolutely stunned that this worked.)

The operator comes on, and I can hardly hear her. She sounds like a four-year-old talking to me from under a blanket. And her accent is even more formidable than Maria’s. Sounds East Indian. That’s probably where she is. I explain the situation to her, with much back-and-forth because of the accent/volume/distance problems, and eventually she tells me that this is not the right number to call. I’ll have to call Reservations. She gives me the number, and I hang up.

I dial Reservations, and immediately get a girl who sounds like she’s at least eleven years old, and she’s left the blanket at home. I can actually understand most of what she says. Unfortunately, what she says is that there is no way for me to get on the plane unless Jack himself goes down to the airport in person, signs a waiver on the orginal tickets, is then re-issued new tickets, and then sends them to me. I tell her that Jack is in L.A., and I’m supposed to go see him in half an hour (which is now how long I have until my flight leaves – not boards, but leaves), and there’s no way we can accomplish what she’s talking about doing. She says there’s nothing more she can do, and I say there’s nothing more I have to say to her. I hang up. I see that Amy has tried to beep in while I was on the phone with this woman. I call her back.

NATE: Hello.
AMY: Hi.
N: I’m at the airport, my flight leaves really soon, and they’re telling me that I can’t get on board without a paper ticket, even though I never got one.
A: We did get one. Dad mailed it to us, remember?
N: …
A: Are you there?
N: Yeah, I’m here. I don’t remember getting a ticket. Where is it?
A: I gave it to you, and you must have put it in your cubby or something.
N: Dang it! I was gonna clean out my cubby, because it’s a mess, but I didn’t get around to it. I don’t remember getting them – I just grabbed the itinerary from the counter, which is what I usually do with e-tickets. I thought I could talk my way onto the flight, but it’s not working. And it’s leaving soon.
(at this point, Jeff beckons to me)
N: Hold on, Amy, I’m gonna go talk to the ticket guy.
N (to ticket guy): Hey.
J: I’ve been on the phone with management, and I can have them reissue you a ticket right now for $100.00. What do you say?
N: Gimmie a second to talk to my wife.
J: You have literally a second if you’re going to make this flight.
(I tell Amy the deal, she says it’s ridiculous to pay that much for a new ticket. I tell her the only other option is to try to get down to Chicago in time to make my 5:00 connection, and I’m sure I’ll have to spend at least $50.00 doing that, if I even make it in time. She thinks that is also ridiculous. I ask if she even wants me down there, and she says of course. I tell her that I’m going to do this $100.00 thing, then, and she hangs up on me without responding.)
N (to Jeff): Do it.
(I hand him my credit card, and he works the computer for a few seconds.)
J: Uh oh.
N: What?
J: Well, since it’s so very last-minute, they’re going to charge you $175.00 for a reissued ticket.
N (taking his credit card back): Forget it.
J: Sorry.
N: Maybe I’ll go home and see if I can find those tickets, then try to make the connection down in Chicago.
J: Okay.

I walk out of the airport and hail a cab. As we’re heading to Cudahy, which is a 10-minute trip, I pepper him with questions.

NATE: How much do you think it would be to get a cab down to O’Hare, $150?
CABBIE (in yet another very think accent): Yes, $150.00.
N: And what if I took a shuttle from Mitchell down to there?
C: At least $75, but only if they have a load of people ready to go there. They don’t do it for just one person.
N: Right. And I’d have to make a 5:00 flight.
C: I can tell you right now that you will 100% lose. You will not get there in time with a shuttle. Only way is cab.
N: For $150.00.
C: Yes. I could take you. You go to your house and back to airport, that be like $25.00. I waive that fee, charge you only $150.00 to go to O’Hare.
(we’re at my house now)
N: We’ll see. Can you just wait for me for like 10 minutes while I try to figure something out inside?
C: Sure.

Before I make any other decisions, I have to go find those tickets. I run into the house, and start pulling items from my cubby, one-by-one, and throwing them over my shoulder into the dining room behind me. I look like Elaine searching for the manuscript inside Jerry’s apartment while it’s being fumagated, and she’s desperately throwing things all over the place while holding her breath.

The tickets aren’t in the cubby. I run up to my office, check every spot in the room. Not there either. I call Amy as I head down to look on her desk, which was cleaned up before she left. I don’t remember seeing any tickets sitting on it. I tell her that I can’t find the tickets, and I still don’t remember ever getting them, and she’s telling me that she doesn’t want to be bothered with all these details, she just wants me to do what I have to do to get to L.A. As we’re talking, I find the tickets on a shelf on the back of her desk, buried under two month’s worth of paperwork. I also find a $20 and a $10, which I grab, because I’m down to $23 in my wallet, and I have to pay the cabbie. I then accuse Amy of never giving me the tickets, and she has no answer. She’s still mad, though, and I ask if she wants me to come out there at all. She says of course she does, so I hang up on her and start for the door.

Before I reach it I remember Jeff the ticket agent saying something about a 3:00 flight to Chicago, so I grab the Yellow Pages and look up United’s number. There’s just a general 800 number, not the specific Milwaukee one, so I call that. I get the computer again, maybe even the same one as before, and I yell “Operator!” before it can babble out all its little choices. I talk to some woman, and she tells me that there is in fact a 3:10 flight, and she can’t do it over the phone, but if I present my tickets to the ticket agent at the airport, I may still be able to get on standby for that flight, since there are a few seats still open. I thank her and hurry out the door.

I ask the cabbie to take me back to the airport (I almost said “and step on it”, but didn’t – which I now regret), and I turned over the situation in my head. I could run in there, talk to Jeff again, hopefully get on the waiting list, make the boarding for the 3:10 with a few minutes to spare, then make my 5:00 connection in Chicago with another few minutes to spare. My spirits are lifting.

When we’re close to the airport, I pull out my wallet.

N: How much will the fare be?
C: Twenty dollars.
N: Okay, I’ll give you thirty, as a thank-you for waiting.
(he laughs derisively at this)
N: What?
C: The fare is twenty dollars!
N: I know, so I’ll give you thirty – that’s a good tip!
C: No, no, no! The fare is twenty dollars even without a thank-you!!!
(at this point he’s banging on the fare box with his hand, trying to show me how much it is. It already reads $27.50.)
N: Are you saying that the fare will be thirty dollars?
C: Yes, yes, twenty dollars without tip!
(I now realize what’s going on)
N: Wow, that’s a pretty thick accent you have. Sounded like you were saying twenty dollars, so I was offering thirty. But you’re really saying thirty, aren’t you.
C (holding up three fingers): Yes, yes, twenty!
N: Okay, then I’ll give you forty!
C: Okay, thank you.
(We’re at the airport now. I hand him two $20 bills.)
C: You want receipt?
N: Yes, please.

He hands me a receipt with nothing on it but the company letterhead. Every line is completely blank. I look at it in silence for a moment, and then crumple it into my pocket. I bid him good day and leave his cab. Gratefully.

Down $40 and half an hour, I re-enter the airport. I find my buddy Jeff behind the counter, flash him the tickets and a 100-watt grin, and stroll on up to the front of the line. He tells me that there are still some seats available on the 3:10, and puts me on the waiting list. He tells me that it’ll be boarding shortly, and I thank him for all his help.

I hustle on up to gate C9, checking the time on my cell phone. I’m doing okay, but I can’t dawdle. I hit the security line, and am overjoyed to find that there are just three people in the whole section. No line to speak of. I present my ticket and ID to the female screener.

NATE: Here you go.
SCREENER: Thank you, sir.
(I wait patiently while she keys the computer)
S: I’d also like to let you know that you’ve been chosen by the airline for some additional screening.
N (looking around at the empty line): Sounds about right.
S: You can have a seat right over there, sir.

I sit down and wait, chuckling quietly. In due time someone comes over to inspect me, and I get the full pat-down, bags searched, everything. When it’s over I head to my gate, which is thankfully one of the first ones. I sit down and the phone rings. It’s Amy. I answer and apologize for getting angry with her. She does the same, and also apologizes for not giving me the tickets in the first place. We hang up, friends again.

I walk up to the counter and ask if I have a seat on the flight. The man gives me a boarding pass and says I do. I walk back to my seat, happy for the first time since I started the day. It’s now 3:00, and the flight hasn’t boarded yet, so it’s a little late, but I’m not too worried. Sure enough, the counter agent comes on the microphone and says that they’re just having the mechanics check the plane before they board – nothing to be alarmed about. I pull out my little notepad and jot down some of the days events, in case I ever want to write them up . . . it’s been an interesting couple of hours. My last line is this: “Will I make my connection in Chicago . . . ?”

There seems to be some hubbub with the plane outside, and in a few more minutes the counter agent gets on the microphone again and tells us that there is a hydraulic leak on the plane, and it won’t be going anywhere for a long time. They have arranged, however, for a bus to take us all down to Chicago, and that will take care of everyone except the few people who have connecting flights before 5:30. I, of course, am one of those people. I stand up, walk to the window, look down at the plane below, and start laughing softly. This lasts for about a minute before I walk up to the counter. Everyone is leaving the area now, heading for the bus, except for me and some military personnel headed for Basic Training down in Missouri.

I talk to the agent for about 10 minutes, and we determine that I only have two options: Take the bus or a much later plane down to Chicago and get on standby on a flight that arrives in L.A. at 2:00 AM, or re-book my ticket for a 5:20 AM departure out of Mitchell tomorrow morning. I choose the latter, preferring to sleep in my own bed tonight instead of the airport, and I leave the gate area. As I’m walking down the ramp, I pause to take a picture of the “Welcome to Milwaukee” sign above my head. I find it ironic, and very funny.

I head out to the cab area again and hail another cabbie. I get in, tell him my destination, and just sit there silently, staring blankly ahead. After a couple minutes I notice that we’re stopped just at the exit of the airport. There’s a car blocking our way, and it’s not merging with the traffic ahead. It’s a plain white car, and as I glance down to the license plate, I see the old familiar green-and-white plate with the outlines of mountains in the distance. Yeah.

I begin to laugh, harder and harder as we follow him into traffic. I laugh until tears are streaming from my eyes. The cabbie says not a word. He thinks I’m insane. By this time I wouldn’t argue.

Halfway home, I check my wallet. I’m down to $13 now. I’m going to pay this guy with a credit card so I have enough cash left over for anything I may need on the flights tomorrow. We reach my house, and I fish out my credit card.

NATE: You take credit, right?
CABBIE #2: Nope.
N: …
C: Sorry, just cash.
(I look at the meter, it says $14. I look in my wallet. $13. I look at my backpack. One of the pockets is full of change.)
N: I have $13 in bills, $1 in quarters, and I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to give you a tip in change.

He nods in apparent disgust as I discharge a handful of grimy coins into his outstretched palm. I mumble that there are probably some quarters in there, thank him for his understanding, and hurriedly take my leave.

I get in the house and note the time. Just past 4:00. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, I’m flat broke, and the fridge is totally empty.

I am D-U-N.

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• Surprised By Joy: My Introduction To The Service Industry (Part I)
• Paying It Forward: Jan Carroll
• Skip It And Give It
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For now I just want to give a big thank-you to everyone who reads my articles, visits the site, and participates in discussions on Twitter. I have learned more and come farther in the last three months than I ever would have thought possible before I started. I have met a host of sincere, helpful, funny, intelligent, caring people, and I now have an instant reply for everyone who tells me that you can’t form “real” friendships online.

Yes you can.

Because of the nature of the topics I cover, I’ve been able to talk with so many people who constantly give of themselves to others. They have educated me, moved me, and inspired me to do better in my own life. To all of you, I am humbled and grateful that you’ve shared so much with me.

And finally, I want to give the biggest thanks of all to the members of the A-Team. It is absolutely incredible how much we’ve accomplished together in such a short time. Working with you guys has made me believe with all my heart that we can literally change the world. I’m in this for the long haul, and I am honored to be standing beside you as we serve others. Thank you so much.

Nate
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• Who Do You Know? (Part I)
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On to the images.

Far, far away, deep in the heart of the Virgo cluster, live two very large elliptical galaxies, M84 and M86.

It’s very hard for us to see them from such a distance.

But don’t worry, they can see us just fine.

They are watching.

And they don’t seem very impressed.

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Another interesting thing I learned is that there are a good number of people on Twitter who will simply put their status as “How can I help you?” or “What can I do for you today?” Turns out they really mean it, too. I’ve gotten into a few good conversations with people like this, and it inspired me to do the same thing. Go ahead, try the search and see what you find.

The only post that’s up so far has been about a child with a medical condition, and the two post-worthy stories I’ve gathered so far have been about . . . wait for it . . . children with medical conditions. I think my next post may be about a guy who is a champion for improvements in our education system. I wonder if my contacts after that one will be submitting stories about that topic. I guess it remains to be seen.

Almost 1:00 AM and I’ve had all of 17 minutes to relax today. That is not an exaggeration. I’m going to bed – I’ll put up another “real” post this weekend.

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