oh Father, forgive me! {in which i share a piece of my heart}

Let’s just say I don’t agree with some (ok, most) of my coworker’s lifestyles.

And (if I’m honest) I’ve found myself judging. I’ve found myself shrinking away from them—avoiding contact because it’s uncomfortable (but God is the God of discomfort). Just this afternoon as I was about to go on break I noticed that one of my coworkers (the one I have had the most trouble interacting with) was also on break. So what did I do? I purposely sat where he wouldn’t see me so that I wouldn’t risk the awkwardness of maybe having to eat with him.

But as I thought about what I had just done I realized that it was not at all what Jesus would have done. In fact, it was the very opposite. Jesus himself provided food for the tax collectors and sinners. I had the opportunity to share a meal with someone Jesus died for, someone who needs a savior just as much as I do. I had the opportunity to build a relationship in the way Jesus so often did, to break bread with this sinner so in need of a savior. But instead I turned my face away in scorn.

power outage

Everyone was going about their typical closing business. I was counting my drawer. The other cashier was sweeping. The baker was baking. When BAM! the lights went out. It’s never been so quiet. The whole plaza—parking lot, and every others store: black. The generators kicked in very quickly, but still, there is something about loosing power that makes you feel like a kid again. That made Katie (jokingly of course) call out for her daddy, that made Justin run out side, that made the only four customers left giggle like little girls, and Sam dance in the parking lot.

a day in the life of any cashier

What did you do today?

I took orders, I made frozen mochas, and strawberry smoothies, I sliced bread, and burned bagels, I counted change, and counted change, and counted change, I sold cookies, and I took phone-ins, and restocked.

But I also helped feed hungry bellies, I held doors, got highchairs, brought food to tables, I was patient oh, so patient with the old woman who couldn’t hear me, I trained a new cashier, I interpreted foreign accents.

It’s certainly not a glamorous job, or even very difficult, but maybe, just maybe I made a little tiny difference in someone’s day.

stories and souls (a double drabble)

Between trying to decide which bagels to put in her baker’s dozen and then adding numerous other items, it took me the same time to complete her order as the 5 or 6 my manager took. As we finally finished up her order she held out a shaking left hand and said:

We just had our 23^rd anniversary “(wow, congratulations!)” and one of the stones in my ring came out recently. So for the first time in 23 years I have my ring off to get fixed and sized. Look.

And I could see the indent her ring had left.

…

There weren’t any other customers in line, just this one guy who comes in all the time. He’s a biker with the typical tattoos and tank tops and he’s super nice. The other day as I grabbed his double chocolate cookie he talked about how his daughter was finishing her master’s degree and graduating with a 4.0. He was so proud of her, and he was so eager to share.

~

It’s good to remember the customers aren’t just faces ordering food. They’re not just complainers. They're fathers, and couples, and sons, and widows. They’re people with stories and souls.

in case you were wondering...

About 2:00, lunch rush is dwindling.

 The short lady with the orange glasses cuts in front of the line.

“What kind of soups do you have?”

They’re listed right up here.

“Well, I can’t read them.”

Oh, we have chicken noodle, broccoli cheddar, toma

“Which has the lowest calories?”

Chicken noodle. Would you like a bowl or a cup?

“Could I get it in a salad bowl? It’s all he’s eating.”

I don’t think so, there’s only the group soup.

“nothing bigger? How much is that?”

14.99

“Just for soup?! I mean, soup is water, with some stuff in it.”