When?
We had stood there maybe 10 minutes complaining that the clerks were so slow and speculating why. We agreed that this post office was slower than the other one, yet, we believed, this one had fewer customers. We wondered why they didn't call in more back-up help and why there seemed to be only two people working at any one time. Surely there were more workers, somewhere, at least during peak hours, which it was then. There were about 10 or more people in line, now, and the line was only getting longer. So we chimed in talking to the man in front of us, who was just as upset as we were. When I had first arrived, the woman in front of me said, "You might as well get in line, and just wait with the rest of us." Somehow, the post office just brings out the worst in people, but sometimes it brings out the best.
She looked very tired, as I made it to the front of the line, and walked toward her. I told her I wanted a roll of stamps, the ones that are "forever" and asked her if they would be changing the price again soon. She informed me that they had decided to only have a price increase, once a year, in May, so I would probably have plenty of time to use them, before they did. I agreed and paid for the whole roll.
As I was writing my check she looked at me and said "I'm so tired." I waited to see if she would continue talking and sure enough she did. She said she had had a very hard week...a very trying week and I asked her what had happened. She told me that her daughter was hospitalized and that she had been staying with her. I asked her what had happened and she said to me "She overdosed." I said, "On what?" And she replied, "Medication." I looked at her, as I was writing my check and said, "I have a video series on depression and I have compassion for her." "Did she try to commit suicide?" I asked and she said, "No." "It was an accidental overdose." I asked "Does she want to live?" and she said "Yes." I asked her how old her daughter was and she said 27. I asked her what her daughter's name was and she said "Betty ________." I asked her where she went to church and she said, _________. She looked at me and said, "She was on a ventilator Sunday, but she's off now." And today was Tuesday.
I had been very critical of the post office and the people who worked there, thinking that my time was more valuable than theirs, and, because of my schedule, they needed to hurry up. But now, somehow, I felt that her time was more valuable than mine and I wanted to just stay there for awhile, with her. I knew that all I could do was pray for her and my heart welled up as I tried to make the decision whether I should. After all, I knew there were people waiting just like I had been, only minutes before, and they were probably wondering why this woman I knew as Betty's mom now, was going so slow.
I reached over and took Betty's mom by the hand and started to pray for her, even without asking if I could. During the prayer as I was asking God to be with her, I opened my eyes to see her name, as she said to me "Vicky." It was then, as I opened my eyes and looked up at her, that Betty's mom had a name. It was only when I OPENED MY EYES and MADE MYSELF SMALL ENOUGH... TO LOOK UP AT HER...that Betty's mom had a name, and she became more to me than a postal worker, I had complained about, just minutes ago.
The words "When did we see you..." became real to me today.
I was reminded that Jesus does not just see us, He knows each of us by name and that is amazing. We are not slow postal workers or faces in a crowd, to Him. We are flesh and blood... so important... that He gave each of us, His own. "Who, being in very nature God...made Himself nothing...He humbled Himself...and God gave him the name that is above every other name." We are "forever stamped" on the palms of His hands, that we might "forever" wear His name.
I left the post office not only knowing a face behind a desk. I knew a woman named Vicky who had been staying with a daughter named Betty.
I hope she remembers me as "the woman who saw me" and as "the woman who brought me" to this man, who has the name above all names, named JESUS.
She looked very tired, as I made it to the front of the line, and walked toward her. I told her I wanted a roll of stamps, the ones that are "forever" and asked her if they would be changing the price again soon. She informed me that they had decided to only have a price increase, once a year, in May, so I would probably have plenty of time to use them, before they did. I agreed and paid for the whole roll.
As I was writing my check she looked at me and said "I'm so tired." I waited to see if she would continue talking and sure enough she did. She said she had had a very hard week...a very trying week and I asked her what had happened. She told me that her daughter was hospitalized and that she had been staying with her. I asked her what had happened and she said to me "She overdosed." I said, "On what?" And she replied, "Medication." I looked at her, as I was writing my check and said, "I have a video series on depression and I have compassion for her." "Did she try to commit suicide?" I asked and she said, "No." "It was an accidental overdose." I asked "Does she want to live?" and she said "Yes." I asked her how old her daughter was and she said 27. I asked her what her daughter's name was and she said "Betty ________." I asked her where she went to church and she said, _________. She looked at me and said, "She was on a ventilator Sunday, but she's off now." And today was Tuesday.
I had been very critical of the post office and the people who worked there, thinking that my time was more valuable than theirs, and, because of my schedule, they needed to hurry up. But now, somehow, I felt that her time was more valuable than mine and I wanted to just stay there for awhile, with her. I knew that all I could do was pray for her and my heart welled up as I tried to make the decision whether I should. After all, I knew there were people waiting just like I had been, only minutes before, and they were probably wondering why this woman I knew as Betty's mom now, was going so slow.
I reached over and took Betty's mom by the hand and started to pray for her, even without asking if I could. During the prayer as I was asking God to be with her, I opened my eyes to see her name, as she said to me "Vicky." It was then, as I opened my eyes and looked up at her, that Betty's mom had a name. It was only when I OPENED MY EYES and MADE MYSELF SMALL ENOUGH... TO LOOK UP AT HER...that Betty's mom had a name, and she became more to me than a postal worker, I had complained about, just minutes ago.
The words "When did we see you..." became real to me today.
I was reminded that Jesus does not just see us, He knows each of us by name and that is amazing. We are not slow postal workers or faces in a crowd, to Him. We are flesh and blood... so important... that He gave each of us, His own. "Who, being in very nature God...made Himself nothing...He humbled Himself...and God gave him the name that is above every other name." We are "forever stamped" on the palms of His hands, that we might "forever" wear His name.
I left the post office not only knowing a face behind a desk. I knew a woman named Vicky who had been staying with a daughter named Betty.
I hope she remembers me as "the woman who saw me" and as "the woman who brought me" to this man, who has the name above all names, named JESUS.
Comments
I will need to print this and read it again and again to remind me how much oeople need Christ. God sure does put you in the place that you are needed- I guess He does that to all of us. I really want to be more available for His will to be done. Thanks so much for your ongoing inspiration- your writing is powerful.