A Good Man

This afternoon, shortly after church, I received a compliment that made my day. I had done a fair amount of service at church, leading up to that point. I helped set up chairs, I almost helped pass the Sacrament (but they ended up not needing me), I changed a battery in a clock, and helped move things from one car to another, and I helped put things away in a closet. My morning wasn't full of service, but there were several small acts of service spread across those two and a half hours. And one of the Relief Society sisters I served this morning took notice of me, thanked me for my service, and told me something that I really needed to hear, that I am a good man.

I don't hear that often. And when I do, I hear it from someone who would likely have a different opinion of me if they knew more about me or from someone who has a different set of standards for what makes someone a good man. But more importantly, I don't usually believe that about myself. I see my flaws and bad habits, and I can hardly help thinking that I'm not actually a very good person. Yes, I have some good traits and habits, and I am a good person in some ways. But overall? I'm not sure.

Still, the fact that some people have confidence in me, that some people believe in me, that some people think that I'm a good person, is meaningful to me. Those people may have a skewed opinion of me because they don't know certain things about me, but still, it's good to know that there's enough good in me that people can see those traits and come to the (perhaps misinformed) conclusion that I am a good man.

I don't know if I'm a good man. I'm not sure I even know what being a good man means anymore. But still, whether I actually am a good man or not, I'm glad that some people see enough good in me to think I'm a good man.