Sorry so quiet today; I actually have a bunch of tabs all lined up of things I want to link to or talk about, but this was one of those days where the running around started early and hasn’t really stopped yet. There’s a lot going on – including a “project” I am seriously in need of sitting down and finishing before Lent, which will come all-too-quickly, as long as I am not ready.
That’s how it works, right? If you’re not ready, it flies in; if you’re all set and anticipating, time dawdles.
Had to pick up a car part because a lady miscalculated on a wet road and hit me. Small damage, but an annoyance – it’s starting to bother me that when I take the trouble to go out into the icy world to conduct business, the phone rings, the clerk answers it and immediately helps the phone customer while the live customer stands there. Just seems wrong, but maybe I’m just tired and cranky.
Then many, many errands, and after I enjoying the blessed peacefulness of an hour of Adoration this afternoon, Buster called, charming and wheedling me into making the rainbow cookies to send to his school for him and roommates, because they’re all so needy with their heavy schedules. Hmph. Yeah, I’m a sucker; yeah, I made them. After they sit overnight with my Anatomy and Physiology book on them, they’ll be covered in chocolate and sent on their way tomorrow morning, and I’m sure the professors of these young men will wonder why they’re going into class with sugar highs.
He was lucky I was on my way to the grocer’s. After shopping I looked at an unusually long line and opted for a shorter one. As I my cashier did her her very slow, bored-and-unmotivated thing, I came to understand why the other line was long. The cashier was an older man, probably supplementing his retirement (or needing to work because his 401K nosedived.) The difference between the older man and my late-teen cashier could not have been more pronounced. He was friendly, fast and making a less-than-fun job as interesting as he could. He talked to all of his customers, especially the children. When one little boy asked him if he’d seen something on television, he said, “nope, I missed that, I had to work, tell me all about it!” The boy chattered, eventually changing the story to his older brother’s Cub Scout event, and the cashier finished the transaction jovially telling him, “you tell your brother that Walt the Cashier said ‘congratulations!” As his next customer came near, he greeted her as a “regular.”
I understood why Walt’s line was long. People were eating up the effort he was making to be personable and professional. While my poor teen’s eyes were screaming “help, I hate this job,” Walt was making the best of it, having fun, and lifting everyone else’s day. I learned a lesson. Sometimes the longer line is a good thing that will reward a little patience with a bit of humanity. And I couldn’t help but consider the very different work ethic of the two cashiers. One was “barely there,” and one was “fully engaged.” I don’t think it has anything to do with generation – my Elder Son’s girlfriend is in retail and she’s a little dynamo at her job – it has to do with attitude, and a willingness to extend oneself a little bit.
I bet Walt’s day felt like it moved faster while the other cashier’s “dawdled.”
I think I’ll go ponder that – and where I am lacking when it comes to extending myself for others – while I finish folding the wash and plot out how, tomorrow, I might actually get something productive done.
Meanwhile, this link is interesting, and so is this pastor:




Loved the hermit. Loved the pastor with his high tech. Funny how the two are so linked by faith. One so simple and living an ancient form of life. The other so “wired in” and living a most complicated life. Both striving to serve and save souls. Awesome contrast. Stunning similarities. Baruch Hashem!
We have a great cashier at our local grocery and its worth every effort to stand in her line, no matter how many lanes are open. Sharon greets everyone with a smile, she has a lot of silly jokes (like: Do you want me to drop your roast on the floor? I do charge extra to tenderize it, though…?)She’s about 5 foot nothing with short, soft pure white hair and a smile about 3 feet wide and a heart even wider.
Two years ago, I stopped in the store severely depressed from just having learned that the still-teeny baby I was carrying had no heart-beat, but still having to pick up food for the living ones at home. I pushed my cart through her line. She took one look at my face and said, “DON’T MOVE. Please, let me unload your cart. I’ll unload it and then scan the groceries. And don’t try to bag them. I’ll do that, too.” Someone behind me moved off to the next line.
I must have looked rather startled, so she simply said to me that I looked as if I needed some real TLC and she was going to do whatever she could to give it to me. When she was done, she called for a kid to come push my cart to my car and cheerfully ordered him on pain of dismemberment to unload every bag into my trunk himself & bring my cart back into the store. I was so grateful for her kindness, although I knew at that moment I could not tell her why I looked so depressed or I’d break up into a million tears again. I did tell her much later, when I could talk about it, and thanked her for that lovely bit of compassion. She blushed and changed the subject.
She also has a menial and boring job, but she does more than just her job requirements. She ministers to those that stand in her line with smiles, jokes and little acts of compassion that make her more than just a ‘clerk’ to those of us who go out of our way to stand in her line.
I’m a big fan of Mark Driscoll. He’s another example of somebody fully engaged and doing his job enthusiastically, no matter the discouragements and doldrums.
Clearly I’m not “engaged” at the moment because I’m taking a break from an endlessly edited brief (I think I’m on edit #6 or #7) in order to refresh my soul with YOU, dear friend. Maybe a bottle of nice refreshing lemonade will perk me up? Worth a try.