We were working at one of the back walls in the store, counting cards. There was not much space between the aisles. We started at the top, and zigzagged our way down through the four-foot section, counting each pocketful of cards. One of us was counting, and the other was entering data in the hand-held inventory machine. Good times. :)
As we were making our way through this section on the wall, a woman came by who was looking for a card. We backed off a little bit, so she could look through the cards. She was an older woman, skinny, not well-dressed... not very clean. She seemed very nervous. In fact, as she spoke, it was clear that she was quite nervous. We offered to help her find a card, and she seemed grateful for the assistance... although, somewhat reluctant to interact. She sort of muttered the circumstances by which she needed the card. And she was very particular about choosing a card that had not yet been handled. I showed her a couple of different designs, and each time, instead of taking the one I held out, she reached back and pulled one from the back side of the pocket. She was very uncertain, and ended up walking away altogether, because the cards had all been "touched." Jennifer had stepped back, as it was clear the woman would have been offended by too much attention, and too many hands. As I finished my interaction with the lady, there was a bit of awkwardness in where to stand. She was moving away, but drew closer to the cards again, and I didn't want to get in her way. Didn't want to upset her, and wanted to be sure she felt safe. As I did this, another customer made her way around the aisle from behind me, where Jennifer was standing. I had sort of done a little dance with our "nervous" friend, thereby getting in the way of the well-dressed customer. As I turned to look over my shoulder, I caught her expression, along with gesturing hands held out as if to say, "What the heck, dummy?" I politely said, "Oh, excuse me," and moved out of her way. Our "nervous" friend had now scurried off. The well-dressed lady sort of shook her head as she moved past me. I looked at Jennifer, and we agreed: "Grumpy."
How sad. That woman did not know my story any more than I knew the story of the nervous woman. To her, I was a silly store clerk, who couldn't decide where I was going to stand - and was in her way. While I helped the nervous lady, I had many thoughts, "Is she homeless? I wonder why she's so jittery. She's afraid of infection. Am I scaring her? I wonder if she knows Jesus. Will she trust me? Can I help her?..." I had no idea what her story was, but for a moment, she was in my world.
The Bible calls us to live in an understanding way with one another. James 3:13 says, "Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom." The truth is, I was offended by the well-dressed lady... and perhaps rightly so. But I didn't know her story, either. In wisdom, I want to be gracious. I want to be loving. I want to be kind. No matter what.
Lord, help me to honor you.
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