Lessons at the Pump

Last night, on my way home from work, I stopped to get gas. (I wish the story ended there, but that would make for a much less poignant Facebook note)

I was in a hurry, attempting to make it to soundcheck on time in preparation for an amazing night at church, so the last thing I needed was a man coming up to me as I attempted to pay with my debit card at the pump. I had inserted my card and was selecting my fuel grade when he appeared at my side.

He spoke in broken English and seemed very frantic; apparently, he had paid inside and then gotten into the car and drove away, forgetting to fill his tank. According to him, if I continued, I was going to be filling my tank with his prepaid gas, and he wanted me to come inside so the clerk could confirm that his $10 was still on my pump; I needed to find another available pump in the already overcrowded gas station.

Blame Lakewood, or the fact that a man had been shot point-blank in the head right around the corner from my office the afternoon before, or call me paranoid – but I immediately doubted his motives. I didn’t have time for this, and I certainly didn’t want to move my car to another pump so that he could fill his tank on my credit card because I naively believed his “prepaid story”. This seemed like something I would hear about on the evening news – the next big scam. So, I had to go inside to confirm before I did what he was asking me to do.

And as we proceeded with figuring this mess out, I became someone I successfully avoid becoming on a consistent basis; I treated him like the nuisance I felt he was.

I sighed heavily, and repeatedly. I went inside with him but avoided eye contact; I was irritated and inconvenienced and I checked my phone persistently… I was a complete and total brat. And I knew it. Something whispered, but I suppressed it.

I was agitated that he was “so tired” from work that he had gotten into his car after paying and drove off like a complete flake. (More whispering)

I was dismissing the man’s apologies with a half-hearted smile. I was agreeing with the clerk, who was barking at the poor man that he “couldn’t babysit his pump” if he had left by mistake, and it was the man’s problem and not his. I ignored the tiny tinge of guilt I was feeling and reminded myself that this was not my fault. I was just being cautious in not trusting his story. Right?

When the clerk confirmed that the pump in question was still ready with his prepaid $10 and had not read my debit card after all, I knew at this point that I was doing the right thing by moving my car, and that the man was genuine in his mistake, but I had yet to change my attitude. Stupid pride.

I glanced at my cell phone, confirming that my five minute stop for gas had turned into a twenty-five minute ordeal. Crankiness prevails, overshadowing the quiet whispering going on inside.

I stomped back to my car, muttering “yeah, it’s okay. Its fine.” to his persistent apologies and repeated confirmation that, in fact, it was his fault and not mine. I filled my tank and he filled his; he attempted to make nice with friendly chatter. I had no interest in chatting it up. The minutes ticked by, and I was in a hurry. I thought about the other gas station up the road and how, ironically, I had chosen this one at the last minute because it was a few cents cheaper. Go figure.

But, my naturally sparkling personality (haha, and by “naturally sparkling personality”, I mean Jesus) got the best of me. My heart softened almost instantly. I became sympathetic, and I sincerely accepted his apology as I got back in my car, smiling to let him know I was no longer angry. I felt guilty, but knew I had to leave graciously… God wouldn’t allow me to drive away after treating this stranger like a complete and total jerk. I raised my hand in a sheepish wave, and told him to enjoy the sunshine and the rest of his night.

I got into my car, but before I shut my door, I heard the last words out of his mouth.“I’m so very sorry. Drive carefully… God bless you and keep you.”

OUCH.

Now, I’m late for soundcheck, guilt-ridden and teary-eyed as I make the five minute drive to my house.

What a complete idiot I had been. This poor man probably had just as stressful of a day as I had. Who am I to place myself so far above him? My time was not more valuable than his.

He had made a mistake that I know I am capable of making – or will make in the future. He may have been spending his last $10 on gas. I would have been just as concerned about the $10, too, so why was I so quick to allow irritation to set in? Why didn't I joke with him about how that sounds like something I would do, or tell him to just be grateful he didn't drive away with the pump still in his car?

“What if you’re the only Jesus that someone will ever see?” This hadn’t been in my mind until I drove away… but obviously, it had been in his.

Ouch, ouch… OUCH.

I know we’re human, I know we made mistakes, and I know we’re saved by grace – but wow. What a reality check for me, on this beautiful Wednesday afternoon. What kind of a representation had I just been?I know I didn’t blatantly disrespect him or cause a scene, but it was worse in my mind because I knew, deep down, that I wasn’t handling the situation as I would have liked. I was aware of the whispering going on inside of me, but left it at that: I was just aware.

Everyone is fighting a battle, and everyday, we’re faced with decisions. We can treat someone with the impersonal carelessness of the world, or we can treat people – no matter what the situation – with our gifted dignity and grace. Unfortunately, falling on my face was the only way to remind myself of this. It was His way of telling me to slow down. Everyday is another opportunity to love, and to shower people with compassion and understanding. I had missed this chance, but I won’t miss another. Living in fear, in the best sense of the word, is just a great thing. A good fear will make us aware of our chances, and the importance of choosing the right direction when we come to a “fork” in the road.

I know I missed yesterday’s opportunity, but that just means that the next time someone makes a mistake and I’m faced with a decision, I can walk confidently down the right path. He made the mistake, and I was the one who learned the lesson. I love how that works.

Tough Love

Do you know what I really, really, really hate?

Negativity.

Like, with a passion that burns deep inside of me – I loathe it.

Now, I understand that my saying this could be considered “negative”, but a) give me a break and b) I’m allowed to combat things in my life that I believe slow us down. Sorry, I am.

And I say “us”, as in a collective generation – because I think we can change it if we own up to it. And, of course, there’s the fact that it’s my Facebook note. So, if you don’t agree, you don’t have to continue reading. But just a fair warning; if you don’t agree, it probably means you’re the person that should read this the most and I’m probably talking about or inspired by you, but whatever. Go dwell in a corner, Negative Nancy.

I just want to shake people that seem to focus on or affirm every aspect of their life with some sort of negative pretense. It’s annoying, really annoying.I hate negativity and its gang of loser friends: Complaining. Judgment. Apathy. Pessimism. Offense. I hate it all. I think it’s a cancer that dwells deep inside us, and it’s up to us to battle it DAILY and keep it out of every single area of our lives.

I’m obviously not perfect, and I have my days where I’d rather complain than attempt to see the bright side, but those are fleeting. In fact, they’re kind of funny lately. I’ll have a moment of frustration, where I complain to anyone who will listen or completely curse the darkness. But it never makes me feel better. In fact, I often have a very awkward pause after the end of my vent session. It’s very much like God is staring at me, one eyebrow raised and arms crossed like the Father he is, almost as if to say : “do you feel better now?”And I never do.

Go figure.

I’m also not justifying ignorant naivety or sheer oblivion. There’s a way to be real, without having to suck the life out of everyone and everything around you with your crude “reality”.

Offense is a choice. You can argue all you want, but if you choose to not be offended, you never will be. How’s that for brilliant? Stop thinking everyone has it out for you and everything is working against you, and you’ll instantly feel the weight lifted.This may hurt to hear, but this world doesn’t revolve around you anyway, so the minute you stop expecting that very thing, you’ll avoid disappointment and let down and hurt and offense and blah, blah, blah. Seriously, how do people have time for this? My day would be completely consumed with crying and whining about what everyone is doing or saying or not doing or not saying if I chose to live that way, and I would never get anything done – let alone anything productive or world changing. Get over yourself. I say this with only love and encouragement. No offense. HA.

Another thing: build someone else UP. You’ll be amazed at how much better YOU feel, when you focus on improving someone else’s day. I’m not saying that we need to set off into the world solely to compliment someone else, expecting an instant return. But it you live generously, it will come back. I promise. And the sun will shine just a little brighter for you.

Here’s another reminder, for those of you to which this applies: you may be the only Jesus that anyone will ever see. Is that a scary thought? It should be. And I know you’ve heard it all before, and some of your Negative Nancy’s who are reading this note out of sheer curiosity are probably rolling your eyes right now and thinking “oh, Corianne, you’re so textbook”… well, stop. Those of you who have answered the call and actively work as His hands and feet – are you representing Him well? When we break each other down, complain about the church, drag our feet, keep score, make assumptions… we are very poor representation of why we do what we do. And people notice. They do, I promise. Stop allowing division and apathy. I’m done taking one step forward and two steps back, and you should be too.

And pessimism. You’re not being “pragmatic” or a “realist”. Get over yourself. Pessimism is negativity dressed up in fancy clothing. Call it what it is. If your glass is half-empty, find the source and replenish, you big downer! Stop beating around the bush, dropping subtle hints so people will ask what is wrong. If something is wrong, fix it immediately. Don’t wait for someone else to come around and top you off, because it won’t happen. Think of it this way. In this life, we’re all patrons in a buffet. We have a vast assortment of resources, chances and opportunities readily available to us, but there’s no waiter or waitress ready to serve you around the clock. You have to get up and do it yourself. If your glass/plate is empty… whose fault is that?

I feel so much better.

Live Out Loud... So Your Words Don't Have To

We’ve heard it time and time again: it’s not easy to be a Christian. Sometimes it’s confusing and emotional and trying to be a follower of Christ. We always find ourselves falling short, and the hardest thing to conquer seems to be the ability to open up your hands and let the world run through your fingers. Don’t close your fist; you’ll find yourself grasping onto things that have no place in your life. Living hard for him is easy… living easy for him is hard.

I want to talk about things I do that I apologize to God for… daily. Because the most intimate thing I’ve experienced is catching myself in the midst of a bad decision, a poor thought or a negative assumption; stopping myself, and turning to God to repent for my ways. I’m so happy to be nowhere near perfect. I’m so glad that He, like the perfect Father He is, just takes my shame, brushes it off and picks me back up to hold me tightly.

So. Here I go. The hardest thing for me, is people that claim to be Christian and then live completely the opposite. This, in itself, is a horrible statement for me to make – “claim” to be a Christian. My judgment of their heart is inappropriate, but my imperfection allows me to shutter at someone who lists “God or Jesus Christ” as their hero on Myspace, and then has profanity and pornography plastered everywhere else. Can someone who abuses drugs, makes poor decisions and worships sex really be a Christian? Can they really understand what it means to be a follower of Christ? Do they really get it? I get so confused when asking God how I need to handle these situations.

And, time and time again… I am painfully reminded, every time, of the verse in Romans 14.

4 Who are you to judge someone else's servant? To his own master he stands or falls. And he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand.

And

13 Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother's way.

They may not be walking a righteous path right now, but their decisions should never be something I take the time to judge or ridicule. Sure, I’d love to advise on what I believe is the correct path to being an obedient child of God, but God is the Ultimate Teacher. His lessons are far more powerful and effective than my own. I am humbled to remember this. Sometimes, knowing that I may be the only Jesus that someone ever sees, can overpower my position of obedience to His control over our lives. Just as wearing a cross around your neck doesn’t make you a Christian, advising someone to live a certain way as a Christian does no good until they come face to face with God Himself, and their heart is forever changed.

But imagine with me for a moment… you are at a concert; a small, intimate performance of your favorite group or artist. You’re front row, practically in the spotlight yourself, with the most amazing view and ability to really connect and appreciate. This is an artist you’ve followed for years; you pride yourself on knowing the ins and outs of THEM; their performances are something you wait impatiently for and buy tickets to months in advance. You know every song, every lyric and every chord. And if you don’t, you sure will by this time tomorrow. You sincerely appreciate their talent, and are so happy to be apart of their success.

Then, imagine, in the midst of your love and devotion – someone walks in, sits down next to you, and begins publicly deface your favorite artist. They talks about the horrible style of performance this time around. They start picking apart every moment of their performance; everything from deciding the singer sounds off key to noting the poor choice of dress for the entire band. They shake their head in disgust at the lighting, the sound, and even scoff at the people sitting in the room as “fans” of this group. Yet, this entire time, this apparent “fan” is wearing the band’s t-shirt. Owns all the CD’s. Travels to shows on occasion and even may have an autograph or two.

Wouldn’t this sort of thing just physically anger you?

Out of respect for God, and respect for my faith, it upsets me when people have the cross around their neck as a security blanket, or throw faith around as a strong defense when faced with trials… like that is all it takes to live for Him; like He is happy with you remembering on occasion and when it is convenient, that you are a child of God.

He’s not. He wants more from you, from all of us. We need to live out loud, so our words don’t have to.

So, when I forget this, and my words begin to live louder than my actions, I apologize to God… I apologize to God for not trusting him with His people, and not allowing Him to be the one to reach the lost. I may be His hands and feet, but He is the Saviour. Not me. He knows my heart, and when it breaks for Him. He knows when I hurt because He is hurting, and He knows when I ache for the lost to be found. So, I apologize. And l step back, and remember to let Him do His job.