The small-spirited woman was in a mood. A creature with a spiteful obsession to demean anyone in her path, grumbling toward each customer in her line.
As I finally stepped to the counter to pay for fuel, I was prepared to address her rudeness toward the elderly, hard-of-hearing man, the frazzled mother with a fussy infant on her hip, and the waif of a teenager in her oversized hoodie and chewed-down nails. They had done nothing to deserve her disrespect, and I felt inclined to defend these strangers.
But the Spirit held my tongue.
Hello. Thirty dollars on pump three with a receipt, please, I said, willing myself to smile, before adding: How are you doing today?
She glared. Another day living the dream in this (expletive).
I am sorry to hear that, I said. What’s your name?
She rolled her eyes.
Well, thank you for ringing up my bill. I said. I’m going to pray for you today, as I imagine this must be a difficult job. Life isn’t easy, is it?
She paused, studying my face before handing me my change and receipt.
I pray you find comfort in the Lord, I said, meaning it.
Was it my imagination, or did her eyes soften?
Thank you, she said quietly as I left.
***
Years ago, one of our sons worked in a fast-food establishment, a means to an end as he paid for college. Despite the kitchen being a greasy inferno and the work being stressfully fast-paced, Marcus made a point of befriending fellow employees, who knew he was a Christian. As the crew cooked chicken, they discussed theology, namely, how to live in this world and honor God.
One employee named Aiden acted like a class clown. He was wildly insecure and desperately vied for attention, regardless of the cost to others. This included ridiculing our son and another Christian fellow as they shared their faith.
Marcus never laughed at Aiden’s crass humor but quietly and firmly told him that he was unwilling to participate in these conversations, a sentiment which led to increasing derision. Marcus carried on with his gospel conversations, and Aiden ramped up his taunting and berating.
One day, this season ended, as seasons do. Marcus completed his last shift, punched the time clock one final time, got married, graduated, and moved into adulthood.
The end of the story?
Not by a long shot.
Years passed, and one ordinary day, Marcus received a phone call.
It was Aiden, calling to apologize and thank our son for sharing his faith.
God had captured Aiden’s heart, and he was now a born-again Christian. The Bible conversations in the hot kitchen years before? The humble words that fueled Aiden’s contempt? The Bible-driven, gospel-saturated sentences that increased our son’s suffering and persecution?
They had fallen softly to the ground and germinated. Small seeds planted by the Spirit.
It is profitable to remember two things: God’s Word never returns void, and our suffering for Christ’s sake is never in vain.
Praise God.
Our son’s soft tongue had broken a bone.
With patience a ruler may be persuaded, and a soft tongue will break a bone. (Proverbs 25:15)
The Palest Ink 