Twice in one week I traveled the long road up 2 flights of stairs at work to the next floor up in my building. I gathered my change and prepared to hit the nearest vending machine. You know how that feeling hits you like you just gotta have something? Might be something sweet, something salty, maybe a soda or something? Well, that feeling hit and I aimed to satisfy it.
Today being the second of such times this week and having the same exact result as the first experience occasion I pondered on it a little longer. Both of my vending machine trips resulted in my little bag of pretzels spinning through the cycle to release into my eager hands and getting stuck on the wheel. Okay, confession time: the pretzels were for trip #1. I'm not a fool-me-twice kind of gal, so thinking myself clever, trip #2 was for something entirely different. Two trips...same result. A blog post in the making, for sure.
Both my pretzels and my poptarts (believe it!) sat dangling on the edge of that fancy contraption; 9/10ths of the package released and ready to go. Hanging on by just a corner I watched incredulously. On trip #1, I figured I'll go back down, get another dollar and return and get pretzels again. And for sure I will get rewarded with BOTH of my bags of pretzels. Friends, the injustice! I put that dollar in and the little wheel went to spinning. My bag came a-tumbling down and as the wheel stopped spinning my second paid-for bag got stuck. So I spent double the money for 1 bag of pretzels. And I do not have to tell you how much of a rip-off vending machine snacks are. A dollar for that? Highway robbery.
What could I do? These are some heavy machines. Believe me when I tell you that I tried to throw my hip into it without alerting any nearby workers who might see what a fool I was making of myself. The machine itself wouldn't budge. I do believe they build those things stronger these days. Forced to walk away without my paid-for pretzels, I knew that someone else would reap the reward of my contribution. How unfair is that?
On trip #2, the one for the scandalous candy bar, I was not contributing a second dollar. We get wiser with experience, no? But both times I was forced to walk away with my items dangling. almost every piece of them free yet held on by some small peck of a wrapper unable to let go. As I pouted my way back to my desk it occurred to me that a lot of the troubles that I face in my day to day life are exactly the same. I put the work in. Hey, that was my hard earned coinage. I did the long trek (okay, not really - but that's what we tell ourselves) up to the next floor. Took the steps, even. I put in my money expecting to get what was mine. You see where I'm going with this? And, I did not receive what I felt I was entitled to. Even though I tried to shake it out of there.
Many times, I go through things that are not for my reward. I get the struggle, says the Lord, but the benefit belongs to another. Someone else gets to eat my pretzels and chomp on my poptart. And the self-centered piece of us all says that is just not fair. Arms folded, chest puffed out and bottom lip dragging the floor. But the Spirit-driven Christian says "I get it Lord. Use me if you can use anything." When we struggle and see the payoff we can wrap our minds around being grateful for the struggle. When we don't get the reward we walk away sulking and pouting. Like a brat without pretzels and poptarts. Today the Lord reminded me not only is it NOT about me all the time, in fact most of the time, but it IS about someone else.
By the time I reached my desk I pouted no more. Good, I thought. Let someone else be blessed by my sacrifice. Perhaps when I face my next bump in the road I will think a little differently. I'll remember that while I get the struggle someone else is going to be blessed. Doesn't that make it worth it? If you want to be Christ-like, as I do, it is truly worth it. God is everywhere. The closer we grow to Him the more we are able to see Him in everything...everywhere. I hope that chick who got my pretzels or the one who got my poptarts enjoyed them. And I pray those calories evaporated from girlfriend's hips!
Speaking of hips, my dear, sweet Youngest, runs up to me the other day, full of love in his face and adoring in his wide-open arms. "Mom! You're fat...but I love you." Friends, hysterical! Now perhaps if I got that poptart or bag of pretzels I would agree with him. No offense to anyone but I have seen plenty...plenty of people heavier than me. Perhaps, self-deception, yes, but I don't call myself fat, friends. For goodness sakes. Oh, that Youngest. His intention was to show his mama how much he adores her. Message received.
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