I had an interesting experience at Walmart a couple of weeks ago. My wife and I stopped by there in a hurry on the way to work, a little after 6 a.m. I had something in my right eye that I couldn’t get out. We went there to find some type of eyewash in hopes of getting some relief.
After finding what we needed, we rushed to the checkout line. There was only one woman in front of us, with what appeared to be a week’s worth of groceries. I noted the cashier was obviously Muslim, complete with traditional head covering. Her accent indicated she was not a native English speaker, probably an immigrant. She was also s-l-o-w.
My impatience was growing as I scanned for another open register. The only other one open had a line much longer. So we waited. Finally, the groceries were almost all scanned and bagged. Then the cashier pointed to the remaining items and said, “I can’t touch that.” On the counter were two pounds of bacon, a tube of sausage, and a frozen sausage pizza. It dawned on me what was going on: As a Muslim she could not handle the pork.
Everyone’s frustration level was rising. My wife suggested the cashier let her scan it. She declined and went to ask another employee for help. He was not sympathetic and suggested she let the customer scan the items. Sheepishly, the cashier returned and handed the scanner to the customer. She scanned the pork and my wife helped her bag it before leaving. We paid for our items and left.
Questions filled the air as we left: Why would the manager station a woman who can’t handle pork at the register? How can she work at a place that sells pork and be faithful to her beliefs? Why didn’t she just let the customer scan the items to begin with? Doesn’t she know this is America? Why is she here if she won’t conform to our social norms?
In the midst of our frustration it hit me. While I still can’t understand the manager’s decision to put her at the register, I think I know why she is here. She needs to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ. God brought her here to meet His followers who can introduce her to the Truth.
Sadly, all she saw in me was my frustration at being late for work. I hope her next encounter with a Christ-follower is more redemptive.
In the meantime, I’ve been reminded of a lesson I thought I had already learned: Wherever I am, whatever the circumstance, I am an ambassador of Jesus Christ. That matters far more than getting to work on time.
I’m back, after a long silence in this space. My return is just in time for my annual gripe session about the songs of the season. It’s the Christmas season again and the carols are playing, and playing, and playing, and….
An article in the New York Times the other day got me thinking. This time of year is wonderful and frustrating–characteristics that seem true of life in general. So with the help of a few sources, I’m making a list of some of the frustrating messages I see and hear, especially this time of year. See if any of them sound familiar.
What do you have too little of? Ask that question to people and you’re likely to get answers like money, time, sleep, or love. While I can relate on all counts, I’m convinced I have an even greater need: wisdom. I don’t think I’m alone, either.
A newspaper editor told me once, “Words are little bombs.” He’s right. Words have the ability to set off huge explosions, devastating anyone nearby. They also have the ability to frame a discussion to the advantage of one side or the other.
.) Like most people in my age bracket, I was taught early on to do one thing and complete it before moving on to the next. With the absence of cell phones, the Internet, Facebook, and a lot of other modern information streams that wasn’t too difficult–provided I had the self-discipline to turn off the radio and TV.
As my 51st birthday approaches, the reality is setting in: I’m not the young guy anymore. (No, I didn’t just buy a mirror.) Of course, I’ve known my chronological age all along, but I’ve just been introduced to my “ministry age.”
Today, I can’t escape this sad thought: What have we done to our kids? My wife works at a local high school. Last year they had over 50 pregnant girls in the school. This week, she met a young friend of another student. The friend was very pregnant. My wife asked, “When is your baby due?” “November,” she replied. She’s 14.
Finally, a moment to breathe. Things have been hectic of late, to say the least. In addition to the normal end of quarter busy-ness at work, the push to get everything to printing. I have squeezed in a major kitchen floor replacement at home (I didn’t do the work, but we dealt with the chaos), a 1300 mile driving trip to a funeral, and a 36-hour visit from my son. The floor is done and everything is back where it belongs, the urgent projects have gone to press, and my son left this morning. Now I have a few minutes to blog.