I'm not sure my family has noticed the new verse I wrote on our kitchen chalkboard a few days ago.
I'm certain that the man who came to assemble some furniture on Wednesday did not notice it. He witnessed to me like I haven't been witnessed to since the doctor's office. I tried to give him the right answers, to let him know, We're on the same page, friend. I'm good. Promise. But apparently I wasn't convincing. I considered pointing at the chalkboard across the room, but it didn't seem . . . well, Christian.
A verse on a chalkboard isn't proof of my beliefs. Perhaps the proof is in the way I relate to others. And if this is a test, I'm passing it with a fake smile on the outside. Not so much on the inside.
The assembly man was chatty. I was trying to work from home while he was there. He didn't seem to notice. He did, however, give me this doodad, an extra from the kit.
When properly tightened, it makes a cross - and much to his delight, the ones that came with our set include the initials JC. I had to smile, because at this point, I'm convinced JC is messing with me.
We talked. He told me about his family, his wife, his Sunday School class. He gave me his church card. He left. Then the doorbell rang one more time. He wanted to press this into my hand,
I've lived in the "Bible Belt" my entire life. These last few months have been the first time complete strangers have approached me about the thoroughness of my belief in Jesus. It was a stereotype that I didn't think existed. And yet, here I am. Being challenged every few weeks.
I don't know. Patience practice? Humility? Slowing to listen? Respect for those I find annoying? I really don't know. For now, the JC cross and the red stone are staying out. They are a mystery to me, in need of solving. A reminder of how confusing faith life can be sometimes. I'm going to see if they get noticed before the chalkboard.
You never know. A carpet installer is coming next . . .
Happy Weekend, Friends.
On Monday, linking with:
share this on »