Monday, June 2, 2008

Kotex life

Today I pulled in Wal-Mart (because where i live that seems to be all that everyone does) and I nearly had a heart attack. Today is the second of the month. What was I thinking? I don't know what it's like where you live, but around here people come out of the woodworks at the beginning of the month. I have never considered myself a snob. Except during the first of the month. And suddenly I am a high class, heel -popping aristocrat.
Dirty, bare footed children with suckers in their mouths... obviously straight from the bank teller, most of them crying or whining. Their mothers are aged beyond their years, and if they aren't morbidly obese, they are lean and stringy. Their eyes are dull and listless or snapping with impatience and anger at their ward. They bestow useless threats on the little ones: "I'm going to slap you," "I am going to count to 3 and if you don't come I'm going to leave you here." Seriously? Why don't you just count to 1,000,000 because that child is never going to come. They have heard that way too many times.
I have to keep dodging those stupid motor scooters, because these people don't want to walk on their own. They tell the pharmacist they can't pay the full amount for the medicine while a Budweiser and Camel box stare out of the buggy (yes, it is called a buggy here. Get over it.). And if one more overweight, tattooed man slides his eyes down me, I may castrate him. With my purse. How dare you look at me like I'm here to give you a personal show. I mean, I'm obviously not looking at you. Just keep walking, Amy... and for once, all girlish shopping tendencies leave me and I am a man. I walk in, I get my 3 items and I leave. I spent 7 dollars and 10 minutes.

But as I'm leaving and walking to my car, it hits me. These are the "least of these." I think about prostitutes and tax collectors and Romans in Jesus's day and how good He was to love them. "I would treat a prostitute with love" I tell myself. I would be right there with Jesus loving everybody. I mean, I'm soo good at loving. Just ask my friends.
And suddenly, I am a filthy rag. Do you know what a filthy rag was in the Bible? Think of that special time of the month, ladies, and what it looks like. That is a filthy rag. And that's what my righteous deeds look like to God. I don't even want to know what He sees when I'm being a smart-ass uptown girl.
I am so glad God didn't ask us to bridge the gap. Because I cannot even walk through Wal-Mart without condemning myself to Sheol.

3 comments:

Little Lady said...

This is so true. For me in particular. It still amazes me how Jesus could die for someone like me. Thanks for the reminder.

elliebird said...

wow, amy. you should write a devotion book.

Em said...

LOL...Amy? A smart-ass? Never. I can't believe those words even entered your mouth. But in all seriousness, you've just described almost every Chrisitan's attitude in a situation like that. We all say we'll take up our Cross and follow Jesus, but when that opportunity is knocking at the door we forget that Christ died for us and that we are all filthy rags.