Being cool

Church yesterday was tough. I was in a sullen mood all morning. I couldn't get into worship because all my junk was cluttering my mind. So I did what any self-respecting almost-40-year-old would do: I went to get my ears pierced for the second and third times.

I thought that would help me feel cool.

See, every day, I look down and see my hands looking old. I look in the mirror and see my face getting old. Gray hairs aren't a novelty any longer, but an actuality. I loathe Top 40 music. I do the same 45 jobs every day and have the same 100 conversations with my children every week. I am not cool.

Yesterday, I felt particularly insignificant, as meaningless as an unvisited grave.

But God in his mercy showed me in a most glorious manner that He never, never forgets about me. And if He can't reach me in His house, He'll find me wherever I am.

Or send someone else to find me.

I sat pouting in the passenger seat while Geddy filled the gas tank, and I noticed a beat-up car beside us at the gas station. It was still running as the tank automatically filled, and the driver was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, great!" I grumbled. "We'll probably all get blown up."

I glared at the car's owner as she came out of the store. Believe me, I made all the usual assumptions. I heard Geddy say something, and suddenly there she was, tapping on the glass of my window.

"Excuse me," she said when I opened the door, "but do you remember me?"

Nope. Never saw you before in my life.

"You gave me and my grandbaby a ride home one day."

Oh! Um...

Then I remembered her. She and her little granddaughter were walking home from a convenience store last January in the bone-chilling, wet Georgia cold. I stopped and bundled her and the little girl into the front seat of my warm car, then drove them the mile or two to her daughter's house.

I asked after them, and she told me her daughter and granddaughter have moved back into town. She lives in the next state but visits them often. I wished her well and we drove on.

I was thoughtful -- humbled -- but no longer sullen.

It only took me half a second to pull over and offer that ride. No trouble, no time, no money. Me? I forgot all about it as soon as we delivered them to the door. Yet more than a year later, this woman still remembered. It may have been inconsequential to me, but it clearly meant something to her. I meant something to her.

Later, I had three holes punched in my ears. My new earrings look gorgeous. And I got my wish, because before we went to sleep, Geddy told me I'm cool.

"Yeah," I said, fingering my sparkly ears. "Aren't they pretty?"

"Not because of those," he said. "But because today, you were mistaken for Jesus."

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." -- Hebrews 13:2.