Through the Window...

I was sitting in my car in a parking lot across from a liquor store, waiting for my dear wife to pickup a prescription from a neighboring pharmacy. From my location I could see through its front window into the liquor establishment, watching as customers would come up to the front counter, lay down their bottles and cans, and reach for their wallets. What drew my focus were the smiles and obvious banter between the customers and unseen (to me) cashier. First one, and then another, until a half dozen or so exchanges in a row ended in apparent pleasantries. By this time I was intently watching those who walked into this small store, some seeming to carry the weight of a week's draining burdens, one man literally leaning on a cane, and a few with faces etched in worry and pain. But at the counter they were each somehow transformed, their inward struggles relieved for the moment, and many still wore traces of afterglow as they returned into the night and off to their respective evenings.

Martha rejoined me in the car, and together we watched what was to us the silent transformation taking place inside that liquor store. We wondered if perhaps some of the joy the customers displayed was related to their expectation of what their purchases would be lending them later that night. Somehow we knew better; the exchange at the counter was too instant to be simply that. What became obvious as we continued to watch was that the cashier was making cheerful connection with each patron that graced his store. It looked as if he plugged into each customer and turned on a light that they did not even realize had dimmed... each one would trudge in, find their spirits of choice, then place a bottle or case down on the counter. The countenance makeover came quickly. It was comical; it was touching; it was poignant.

I began to think of the places of my own exchange: at the dinner table at my home entertaining guests; at the loading dock at my place of business trading chemicals for a promised payment; at my place of Worship on Sunday morning, sharing a  greeting and a laugh with those whose paths cross mine.  I ask myself: "Are those who trade with me walking away with a smile or some sort of afterglow?"

At the liquor store, among those coming to the counter with a bottle of "spirits", how many are looking for a sort of transformation in a package, when what they long for is the joy of connection? Eye to eye, face to face, heart to heart, even if just for a moment they find a spark that rekindles their hope. Is it any different at my home I wondered, or at my business or even at the church? It may seem like they came to my home for a meal (Martha is a great cook!), or to our business for a product, or even to a "service" because, well, it's Sunday, and I am feeling a bit drained. But surely these needs in themselves do not easily ignite the lantern of contentment...

As I ponder, I am reminded where it all begins: "I am the vine, you are the branches...abide in me and you will bear much fruit” says Jesus to His friends. Ah yes, thank you my Lord for that reminder of my place in you. A memory surfaces, hidden somewhere deep within my soul, a longing for a walk with my Father in the cool of the day. And as I abide in His presence, the lines on my face begin to change, and a sweet fragrance from a distant garden enters my place of enchantment…