I quickly grabbed the few things we needed (almost everything we get comes in bulk from Sam's... not much use for Publix nowadays) and headed to the check out line. I don't recall exactly the order of following events, but I do remember it being chaotic. One of those times when you feel like you are floating above yourself and then, suddenly, you snap back to reality and wonder what in the world just happened?
My phone rang during check out and I broke my own rule by answering it (the caller and I had been playing phone tag and I knew she only had a simple question that I would be able to answer quickly). Remember, my mouth is still numb. I am willing myself to appear as normal as possible.
I hang up and apologize to the cashier for taking a call during checkout (I think that is rude). As she is scanning my groceries and passing them along to the bagger, she spots a half sheet of paper on the conveyor belt.
"Is this yours?" she asks me.
"It's mine'" replies the bagger, who is in her late teens or maybe early twenties. "It's some invitation to a church thing. The lady who gave it to me told me I need to be saved."
The bagger and I make eye contact and without even meaning to, I raise my eyebrows and do some sort of half eye roll. Before I know it my groceries are bagged, I have paid, and I am heading out the door. Mouth still numb. Thankful to have made it through the shopping experience without having to talk....much.
Let me explain the raised eyebrow, half eye roll. I am not the kind of person who would walk up to a total stranger and say "You need to be saved." First of all, what does that even mean? If you have never stepped foot inside a church you might even ask "Saved from what?" It's just not my style. I understand that everyone is different. Not only is it not my style, I really don't think it's all that effective. I believe that relationships are where life change happen and somehow I doubt that church lady had a relationship with Publix bagger chic. There are times to be bold. There are times to step outside of your comfort zone and invite a total stranger to church. But based on what I know about church folk, and based on what I know about young, skeptical non-church folk, I just don't think telling someone she needs to be saved and inviting her to revival is going to be real successful nowadays. So I raised my eyebrows a little. And I paid for my groceries and left.
What happened next I can only describe as intense and clear conviction. As I am heading out the door at Publix, I realize what my eye roll probably looked like to the bagger. She didn't have the luxury of being in my head (not that I would call that a luxury...). For all she knew I thought the whole Jesus thing was a complete farce. Who needs to be saved anyway?! What if she had actually planned on going to the church that night? What if my eye roll sent the message to her that she was fine the way she was? That we don't really need a Savior? That the whole religion thing is just a waste of time?
I knew what I had to do. I needed to go back and talk to her. I needed to explain that I love God. I love the church. And I believe in both. But that I think so often Christians get it wrong. And I am sorry for that.
There was only one problem. My mouth was numb. Stupid numb.
"I am not walking back over there," I told myself.
The other me muttered something about eternal damnation. Dag gone conviction.
I went to my car, unloaded my groceries, sat in the driver's seat, key in the ignition, and proceeded to argue with myself. Then I made a plan.
Yes, I am feeling like a total fool at this point. I knew going back in there was going to be nothing shy of humiliating. I also knew that driving away was no longer an option. I ALSO knew I couldn't talk without sounding like a stroke victim.
I wrote a note. It went something like this:
"I want to explain my visual reaction to the invitation you received to church. I realize my response may have made it seem like I thought religion, church, or God were bad ideas and not worth pursuing. Nothing could be further from the truth. I believe that God made the world and everything in it. And that you are His finest creation. I also believe the Church is the hope of the world. It's God's plan to share His love with everyone. I believe there are many who are getting it right. But there are MANY who are not. I don't know if the lady who gave you the invitation to church was kind to you or not. I hope that she was. And if she wasn't, I am sorry. That's not right. I just don't want anything I do or say to ever turn someone away from pursuing a relationship with God. And I realize that me coming back in here to give you this letter is totally creepy and weird. Again, sorry. But I couldn't pull away wondering if I had somehow hindered you from seeing God."
I folded up the piece of paper, slid a business card inside, walked back into Publix, and handed it to her.
I see the Publix bagger girl every now and then. I have no idea if she recognizes me as that psycho Jesus chic. She doesn't run away screaming, so that's a good sign. I don't know why conviction strikes when it does. I just know I get that yucky feeling inside when I don't listen to it.
Hopefully I am learning to temper my responses a little better, and think before I act/speak. I have also learned not to go to Publix when my mouth is numb. Stupid numb.
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