Not willing to settle for a dysfunctional drainage system

When we moved into our new house five years ago, it was brand new. I remember the first time I saw our new house. I fell in love. I shrieked in joy when we pulled up, ran a few laps around my new domain, and then laid in the living room for a good ten minutes to soak it all in. I was in the honeymoon stage with my new abode.

You know how you fall out of the honeymoon stage? When you begin noticing the faults of your spouse more than the reasons you fell in love with them? My house soon made its faults clear. Ever since we moved in, it seems like things have been falling apart. The toilet paper holders fall off about twice a month, the knob in my shower fell off, the stopper in my sink got stuck in the “up” position, the closet door wouldn’t open, and the strings to open my curtains fall off almost nightly. Not to mention we have had windows broken by both golf balls and ducks. Either we are extremely rough on our home, or it was not built with the finest wisdom. I’d like the think it was the latter.

I don’t mean to say we live in a bad house, because we don’t. It’s beautiful, it has lovely stonework outside, a big front door, floor to ceiling windows, a kitchen that has everything I could wish for, vaulted ceilings in my room, and it can handle one heck of a Christmas tree thanks to the tall ceilings in the living room. I love my house. My point is that someone missed some of the finer details of the house. Someone overlooked the little things.

Maybe it would have been better to choose a toilet paper holder that stays in place. Just a minor detail. Putting a heat detector right above our convection oven probably wasn’t the smartest idea. Just a minor detail. I would have liked to have a drain in my shower that doesn’t clog at the sight of one hair. Just a minor detail. Being able to open my blinds with ease would be preferable. Just a minor detail.

My life is good. I have a great family, I am blessed with the opportunity to go to an amazing university, I have wonderful friends at school, I have never been in want. I have an overwhelmingly blessed and abundant life. The creator of my life did a thorough job. The difference between God and the builders of my house is found in the minor details.

My creator cares about each and every little thing about my life. There is no minor, subtle, or petty detail of my life that evades God’s thought. Yes, he has given me all the big, noticeable, good things in my life, but He has created and designed my life to the deepest and most intimate level. He cares that my feelings were hurt by a nasty customer, he cares that I am nervous about an upcoming test, he cares that I am lonely. God is not willing to settle for a crappy toilet paper holder or a dysfunctional drainage system when it comes to our lives. It is good to know he pays attention to the minor details.

The curse of the work apron

I wear a uniform to work everyday: black slacks, black shoes, a special “Market” t-shirt (complete with advertisements on the back), and an apron. It seems the moment I put on this uniform it becomes socially acceptable for people to complain to me, yell at me, and make me feel unnecessarily bad about myself. Today was one of those days where I felt like the majority of customers believed I was the one making their shopping experience subpar. Of course it was my fault that the sign said the peaches were from Mexico when they were really from California. Of course it was my fault that you couldn’t read that the sign said “lemonade” not “pineapples,” making the price of the pineapple more than you thought. Of course it was my fault that the Walla Walla onions didn’t get shipped on time leaving The Market Walla Walla-less.

There is something about me wearing that apron that sends the message, “yell at me, make me feel guilty, treat me like I am not human, I don’t actually have feelings.” As much as this type of treatment hurts, I expect that customers are going to be angry when we don’t have the onions that were on sale. I anticipate customers complaining to me about the prices. I know that no matter what, I will have to take some blows even though I had nothing to do with the problem.

After one particular lady killed any sense of self-worth I felt today, I skulked to the back room, hung my head, and found things to do that would allow me to avoid customers for a few minutes. As I was feeling particularly sorry for myself, I began to realize there is someone who I falsely accuse, who I am disrespectful towards because he wears a “uniform,” if you will. It’s God. God has many roles, or “aprons.” He is Creator, He is Father, He is Healer, He is Redeemer, He is Savior. I know God is my savior and that regardless of what I do, there is no sin He cannot forgive. Does he expect me to sin? Unfortunately, yes. Does he like when I sin, does he accept it without feeling hurt by my sin? No.

Just because I know I am saved does not give me reason to go on living in sin. Just like I (try to) accept the hurtful words of customers and continue giving the “above and beyond” customer service expected of me, God never ceases to be a forgiving and loving God when we continually wrong him.

I have to believe customers don’t really think everything is my fault. They must know that I, a seasonal and minimum wage worker, makes absolutely zero decisions having to do with the store. Similarly, I know God is not to blame for my sins; I recognize my sins are my own downfalls. But the blame is put on him anyway. “God made him who had no sin be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). He already died for each and every sin I have and will commit. Regardless of the fact that he has already died for my sins, each sin hurts him. He does not like to see us fall victim to the temptations of this world.

If I am so affected by the abrasive words of customer I don’t even know, how much more is God affected by the slap-in-the-face sinful behavior of those he died to save? I don’t want to be the rude customer to God. I want to be like the customers who make my day; like the lady who was a little too thankful that I went to get her a flyer, like the man who told me I was the “nicest person ever,” like the lady who comes in with a smile and a laugh each and every day and calls me by name. I appreciate these customers, I look forward to them coming in the store, I want them to come through my line. I hope God smiles when he thinks about me, that when I come into his presence he knows I will be thankful, that I will realize just how great his sacrifice is, and that he loves to hear me call him by name. We can choose to be grumpy and ignorant or joyful and appreciative.

A hasty application of sunscreen

Summertime: popsicles, bike rides, boat trips, bonfires, lemonade stands, and… sun rash? For me, the long sunshiny days of summer mean sun rash. For the past 10+ years, I have developed an allergy to the sun which causes me break out in a sun rash after being exposed to the warming rays of summer. These little red dots adorning my arms and legs let me know I have been in the sun without wearing the oh-so-important sunscreen my fair skinned, red headed, freckled faced body needs.

I have recently been trying to run outside rather than on a treadmill inside to get my body used to running in the unpredictable elements of the outdoors. This also means I have been in the sun more than usual. Before going for one of these runs taking place under the sun, it is crucial I put on sunscreen if I don’t want to come home looking like I was just painted by seurat the dot. However, the first thing I do when I wake up is not put on sunscreen. I usually eat breakfast, have a cup of coffee, lounge with my mom, read the newspaper, make a lousy attempt at the New York Times Daily Crossword, and play tug of war with Zoe. All of a sudden I look at the clock, realize I have an hour and a half before I need to be off to work, run upstairs to throw on running clothes, and fly out the door. Sometimes I am lucky enough to remember a slathering of sunscreen between putting on the running clothes and flying out the door, but sadly, it is not often.

Even on the days I do remember a quick dose of sunscreen, I know it is not doing me much good. It has not had time to sink in. It is quickly taken away by the sweat running down my face, the sun beating on my arms, or the (frequent) Washington rain splashing on my legs. The sunscreen essentially served little or no purpose.

In order for us as Christians to hold our ground and avoid the beatings of the world around us, we have to let the words of the Bible sink in. We can’t assume that a quick skimming of the book of John will be enough for us to walk out the door and bring someone to Christ, we can’t expect that a lackadaisical glance at Colossians will keep us on the straight and narrow, we can’t believe that an occasional flipping through Revelation will make us into theological geniuses. We have to make an effort of diving into the Word, digging deeper, and giving it time to sink in. If we are in a hurry to read the Bible without approaching it with purpose and being intentional about gaining understanding, the first ray of sun, drop of rain, or stream of sweat will wipe it all away.

The world we live in is like the sun on my sensitive skin. If I step out into the sun unprepared or with a hasty application of sunscreen, I am in big trouble. If I step out into the world without having a firm foundation in the Word, I am in big trouble. Sunscreen takes time to sink in and to serve its purpose. Our study of the Word takes time. David writes, “I will meditate on they precepts, and I have respect unto thy ways. I will delight myself in they statues: I will not forget thy word” (Psalm 119:15-16). I do not want to forget the Word. I want to “delight in the law of the Lord, mediating on it day and night” (1:2).

Once we have meditated on the Word and let it sink it, we will be ready for any unpredictable elements coming our way. My time in the Word, my search to know God more, and my attempt to follow Christ will not be a hasty application of sunscreen. It will be an intentional lathering of sunscreen properly applied before sun exposure, keeping me safe and prepared.

Coke in my mascara

For those of you who don’t know, if your mascara gets clumpy, you can simply add some Coke into the tube and it will be back in mint condition. However, the word “simply” seems to evade the idea of actually getting the coke from the can into the small mascara tube. How exactly does one get the Coke in there? It seems to call for a sticky situation. Mascara tubes were just not made for pouring Coke into them.

In order to make the process more efficient, one would need a “mediator,” if you will, between the Coke can and the mascara tube: a funnel, or maybe an eyedropper. With the use of such a tool, the Coke is easily moved from the can into the tube. A process seemingly impossible is made possible.

Now imagine yourself as the mascara tube. Your life gets “gunky” and seems to have become less than perfect, less than what you are meant to be. We need something to smoothen us out again and remove the impurities. We are in need of something to bring us back to perfection. Or in other words, we need some Coke. Our Coke is God. But how do we go about getting this omniscient, omnipresent, sovereign, all-powerful God in us? Our sinful nature separates us from God and makes the task of getting Him in us impossible without some kind of assistance. We need a mediator between God and us.

So what is our funnel? What is our eyedropper? This is where Jesus comes in, our perfect mediator. He makes this seemingly impossible task of getting God in us, possible. Jesus tore the curtain separating us from God; he took away the restraints of the Coke can and the narrow mascara tube. He is the means of creating a personal relationship with God.

I don’t mean to reduce God to a sugary, less than satisfying beverage, or Jesus to an eternally misplaced kitchen gadget. But it is amazing to think that through Jesus, we are given new life. We are restored to mascara like the day it is opened, when it makes our eyelashes look like advertisements. Attempting to know and have a relationship with God without Jesus as our mediator proves an impossible feat. We need Jesus who suffered like us, lived among us, and prays for us, to bring us to God and God to us.