Today’s Word from Trinity Member Denise Wilson…
During the COVID-19 pandemic, stores that remain open have chosen multiple options for keeping customers and employees safe in their stores. Prior to the pandemic, blue tape was only a “thing” while painting, protecting many a surface from the unintended (but colorful) consequences of messy painting technique.
Now though, blue tape has made a widespread debut on the tile floors of grocery, hardware, and other essential stores which continue to operate, albeit under restricted hours. One of the more common uses of such blue tape is to mark where one may stand while waiting to check out. Blue tape, at six foot distances, keeps us apart in the store and reduces the temptation to stroll up to the cashier to make our purchases or to do anything else that could be construed as “formerly normal.”
In addition to the blue tape corral, I observed another twist in the checkout process while at Ace Hardware today. Once I had filled my shopping cart with what was on my list, I advanced to the blue tape. As expected, I was instructed to wait and to proceed only to the next blue tape mark when the customer in front of me advanced. I waited patiently as I moved forward in six-foot increments, marveling at how I could feel safe in the middle of all this craziness.
Finally, some many minutes later, I approached the somewhat broader blue tape that marked my final approach to the cashier. A large sign warned me (under threat of something, I am not sure what), that I needed to refrain from crossing the broad blue tape line. I waited. A pleasant enough store assistant approached me and took my shopping cart (and my leaning post) from me and rolled it up to the cashier. The cashier began to scan and bag my selections.
I was quite far away from the register and the cashier – many times more so than I was distanced from my fellow customers now waiting patiently behind me. Indeed, I was far enough away that I couldn’t really see what actually ended up in my shopping bags. I took it on faith that some of what landed in those bags coincided with what had formerly resided in my shopping cart.
When the scanning was complete, I was ushered forth to insert my plastic into a machine – contactless of course. I tried to smile at the cashier behind the plexiglass in front of me, but it was a masked smile and failed to do the good I intended. While waiting for my credit card to do its magic so I could return home with my mystery bags, I reflected on how similar this experience seemed to be to my prayer life.
Just like the helpful hardware folks at Ace, everyone in the Holy Trinity was friendly, efficient, and welcoming about my prayers. And, of course, they never criticized the irregularity with which I offered them. Prayers were ushered in and encouraged in any shape or form that reflected what dwelled on my heart or mind. Once uttered, they were taken away, guided through a process, and considered. Snippets of scripture promised that any prayer, large or small, well-articulated or mumbled, would be received, scanned, processed, and returned with some form of answer.
But, just like at the hardware store, I had to submit my prayers at the blue tape line. And once I turned them over to the Master Cashier, I could only see at a distance how my requests, my pleas, and my yearnings were being handled. More often than not, I had not a single clue what was going to end up in my take-out bag at the end of the line. Would it be answered prayers? Post-it notes with “Are you kidding?” scrawled on them? Stunned Silence (at such requests as “please save the world right now”)? Disappointment?
On my way home, I stood on the spiritual version of the blue tape line, wondering what would happen to this barrage of pandemic prayers that kept streaming out of my bleeding heart.
Sigh.
I hear that God is, among other things, remarkable in His role as my prayer cashier. So, in the end, what ends up in the bag will be the best and most essential items… no more and no less.
And – no credit card required … the price had already been paid.
Denise Wilson
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