Doing the best that you can

Sunday afternoon, the three of us went to see "The Other Boleyn Girl," (a great film, by the way). Standing in the popcorn line behind a mother and her son, we overheard the mother's exasperated voice talking on her cell phone.

"I don't like to be called a liar! Don't call me a liar!"

Now, I have no idea who she was talking to. It could have been a friend, a family member, a credit card company--no matter. It was obvious that she was agitated. And honestly, it agitated us a little bit. We were barely on time for the film, and were in a hurry to get our snacks and sit down. I thought, "Oh, great, another cell phone addict, messing up my time table."

During this call, her son, who was about seven or eight at most, engaged my husband in a conversation. It was obvious that this child was bright and cared for. To look at his mother, one might have questioned her choices in clothing and hairstyle. Her shirt exposed a midriff, her hair was an unusual color, and there she was, talking on a cell phone while there were people waiting around to get their snacks and go sit down in the theater. It would have been easier to judge her harshly, to chalk up her lifestyle as yet another example of how the world is just one big mess.

But that child was something else. Clean, articulate, intelligent. His mother was making the effort to take him to the movies, and she didn't even get exasperated with him when he couldn't make up his mind between Milk Duds and Whoppers. She smiled at him, patted him on his head, and you could tell that the two of them, no matter what kind of life they shared, loved each other dearly.

After another line opened and we got our snacks, I couldn't help but think that she was doing her best. I don't know her journey, I don't know her struggles. I do know that she loves that little boy, and that he will be a stronger man for it.

That's all we can do, really. We can do our best and then let go. I can only do the best that I'm capable of at any given time. And that best may not be very good sometimes, but it's all I've got. When I think of the mistakes I've made, some of them whoppers, I have got to allow myself a little forgiveness! I was doing the best that I could at that time. It might not be the best I could do today, but it was the best that I had then. Does this excuse me from glaring lapses in judgement? No, but it does allow a little more space for mercy, and isn't mercy toward oneself the hardest kind to muster?

So today I've focused on that, the notion that all we have is now, and all we have is the best we can do now. We can try harder tomorrow. And we can learn from our mistakes today. But before we judge ourselves or anyone else too harshly, we must remember this truth.

And we must have faith that we'll be capable of doing better tomorrow.