Do What I Say, Not What I Do (sometimes)

Please note: I have changed the names and places in this true account. Thought it was only right that I did.

Checking out in the "10 items or less" line at Walmart this afternoon, two men were ahead of me who came through with their monthly government checks and used them to purchase the items. I had heard a discussion just before I got in line between an employee and these two gentlemen in which the employee said that usually they would have to go to the customer service line to get their checks cashed, but she had gotten permission to let them go through the check out lane. This process took a very long time, twice. And then the young nephew of one of the gentlemen came up and started talking to them, in between checks, actually, and then asked if he could get in line in front of me. I said yes but meant no. The nephew then said that he didn't have to do this, but he did have one item only. And then I remembered that I had 13 items in the 10 item line, and I knew that somebody was gonna offer me grace most probably in a moment (or a half an hour) That somebody who would probably offer me grace was the young man cashier. This young cashier, who had been totally calm, but not effervescent at having to cash the checks of the nephew's uncle and friend lzo also looked a lot like Greg Brady in the last season of "The Brady Bunch." I knew that this cashier would most probably not send me to everlasting torment and probably not even scold me. I felt I needed to offer grace as well and so I apologized for my tone and attitude to the nephew, and I waited longer. And then, I heard a man, the customer two people away from me down the line, talking to another customer "Yeah, that's my son" he said, pointing to the cashier.."he's not come to see me in a year, but that's my son--He gonna be awful surprised when he sees me." I quickly glanced ahead at Jaycub to see if his demeanor had changed--he now was looking down with unusual interest at the car wax that one of the gentlemen was buying. His father kept it up---I moved back a couple of steps, and sure enough, he smelled like he'd had whiskey for breakfast and rum for lunch. "Hey, boy, you recognize me?" Jaycub tried to smile a bit, and mumbled something back to him. I was now closing in on the conveyor belt to put my too-many items there.I could see that Jaycub was a little pink in the face, that his clear blue eyes were trying not to look up, and that even if his hands weren't shaking, they looked like they would at any moment. I said to him, "Hey guy, you were one cool cucumber with those guys and their checks." He said, "it's this way every first of the month." I then wanted to whisper to him, "I'll be praying for you," which I do say to strangers I see sometime toward whom my heart is especially turned. But I did not say it.

And I regret it terribly. I wanted to say it, I should have said it, but this time somehow I didn't do it. I can make excuses and say that it was because the young man was so shy, and I didn't want to draw undue attention to the situation with his loud drunk father. But that wasn't the truth. I didn't do it because I just didn't do it---not sure why. I should have. I hesitated a moment after Jaycub had checked me out (and had not said a word about my contraband),thinking maybe I ought to stand there until his dad had come through and left (my protective mama mode)--I didn't do it. I looked for a manager to tell him or her what a great job Jaycub was doing---I found one on his cell phone, but decided I didn't want to wait. I didn't tell him.

Jaycub was somewhere out there today and I didn't do what I know I should have. Lord, get me over my "should haves" to being who I really am. Help me tomorrow to say the thing I am being led to say. And Lord, if I try to make contact with Jaycub tomorrow, help that be for him, not me. Amen.