Every day this week has seemed wearying. I worked Tuesday evening, enjoyed my co-workers and my customers until one lady shattered my composure. She was sitting with her family (husband, teenage daughter, and daughter's boyfriend), and seemed pleasant enough. I was slightly taken aback when mom ordered for her daughter. She was obviously a teenager and old enough to be there with her boyfriend. Why couldn't she order her own food? When said food arrived, the mother informed me what was wrong with her daughter's food, and we set about correcting the problem. No good. Mom looks at me with disgust and tells me that I have misheard; the food still is not right. (The daughter did not say a word this entire time, or even look at me.) Mom then comes back and sticks her head in the kitchen to tell us to change something else. Okay. A few minutes later, she comes back into the kitchen (which, by the way, she's really not supposed to be) to tell the cook not to bother; the daughter doesn't want her food anymore.
I know that as a waitress, my job is to please the customer, even if it is not my fault. I know that as a daughter of Christ, I should love my neighbors and turn the other cheek. But reader, I let my frustration show. I know she could see it in my eyes. I wanted her to see how frustrated I was with her. I know that was not the proper response, but that was how I responded.
Yesterday, my family and I spent the day driving down to Charleston and back (four hours each way) for a funeral. My uncle's father (as in, my mom's brother-in-law's father) passed away after a long battle with various illnesses and problems, and my parents felt it was wise for us to drive down and support my aunt and uncle. I have never met any of the family -- other than my aunt, uncle, and their two sons -- and I didn't know the granddad at all, so it felt strange to mingle around in their grief. Have you ever been to the funeral of someone you didn't know at all? I've heard plenty of stories of him, and he and his wife are friends with my grandparents, but I did not know him. I was, however, blessed by his funeral.
Doesn't that sound strange? I was blessed by Barnie Reeves' funeral. His sons stood and testified to his life of deep love for them, and of deep love and study of the Scriptues. His young pastor spoke similar words, and read from notations in Barnie's own Bible, allowing us to share in his joy of the Word of God, and challenging us to love it as deeply, study it as thoroughly.
I read this morning in 1 John 2 -- "By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says he abides in him ought to wak in the same way in which he walked." I fear that I cannot say that I walk the way Jesus walked.
Thank goodness for the gospel, that (as John says in the previous chapter) "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Amen!
Andrew is driving here now. I feel spoiled to see him again so soon. We usually see each other once a month, and this is only a three-day gap between times together! Pray for us, reader, as we prepare for marriage, as we deepen our friendship and seek to be a blessing to each other and to others as a couple.