Oh, Really?

It’s easy to judge situations when you are just a bystander.
There is a sense of self-righteousness.
I wouldn’t have done that.
I would have handled that differently.

Oh, really?

We feign sympathy when all the while we secretly gloat.
Just a little bit.
It’s always them and not me.
Not my child, not my family, not me!

It is at that very moment we need to beware.
We have no reason to gloat.
We have no reason to boast.
It can very well be my child, my family, or me!

It is usually the issue of thankfulness that will force the dross to the surface.
It is usually the fact that we walk around with a sense of entitlement that we don’t deserve.
It is usually the fact that we feel as if we are owed whatever it is we feel we are not getting.
It is usually an attitude of ungratefulness that permeates our countenance.

Why can we see that quality in other people and not in ourselves?
Why are we ready to wag our finger and say, Tsk, Tsk, Tsk?
I may be a bit ungrateful, but I’m not that bad.
Even at my worst, I don’t sound like that.

Oh, really?

I watched a young child have a melt down in the check out line.
I was a few people behind but I could still see clearly.
Apparently the melt down was over an item from the toy aisle.
It seems as if they came in to buy a birthday present and the child wanted the gift for himself.

There were arms flailing and legs kicking.
There were loud cries and laments.
There was a lot of, That’s not fair, being said over and over.
There was the ultimate weapon being unleashed on his mom, I hate you!

Every mother within earshot formed her own opinions.
Opinions about what she would have done at that moment.
Opinions about how she would have disciplined her child while avoiding more embarrassment.
Even other children in other shopping carts looked at this child in disbelief.

The author, Frank Peretti, was mercilessly teased as a child.
He grew up with the shadow of that hurt coloring his adult life.
He overcompensated in some areas and failed to act in others as a result.
I remember him recounting a particular story during an interview.

A situation demanded a response from him but a flood of memories came rushing back.
He said something in response which was much weaker than he wanted to say.
In the interview he said what we have all experienced.
I said the perfect thing in response, twenty-four hours later.

How true!
We know the exact words that should have been said after we had time to think.
We know exactly what we should do after the situation has long passed.
In the moment, there is often hesitation: a measuring of words and a curbing of actions.

Who knows what this mom had to deal with before she came into the store?
Who knows how she handled that child after they were alone in their car?
Only she knows the circumstances.
We as bystanders can only guess.

As I approached the cashier, I saw another encounter.
A little girl was sitting in the shopping cart seat.
She was smiling at the cashier and anyone else who smiled at her.
She offered people her toys, her socks that she kept pulling off her feet, and her pacifier.

The heart of the cashier seemed to melt in this little girl’s presence.
Would you like a sticker? She asked the little girl.
The little girl’s eyes widened and she said, Yes, please, without removing her pacifier.
Instead of handing the sticker to the little girl, the cashier walked around and gave it to her.

Without missing a beat, the little girl reached up to give the cashier a hug.
The little girl’s mother just looked on and smiled.
With her pacifier still in her mouth, the little girl said, Dank you.
No prompting, no cajoling, just heartfelt thanks over a sticker.

This is not a comparison between the two children.
I only witnessed snippets of behavior.
When I left the store, all I could think about was thankfulness.
Which child am I most like on any given day?

How often am I like the little boy who had a melt down over the littlest thing?
How often am I like the little girl whose thankfulness was palpable?
How often do I walk around feeling entitled to something I don’t deserve?
How often I am grateful for the smallest kindness with which someone blesses me?

I want to put myself in the category of the little girl.
I want to think that I am above reproach.
But I’m not!
I have my moods and times when my attitude of gratitude is not what it should be.

How do I treat God in my daily life?
Do I complain and whine because something I want so badly is withheld from me?
Do I have a melt down, even if it is in my own head, bemoaning the wherefores and the whys?
Or do I reach up and hug Him, thanking Him for the littlest kindness that He bestowed on me?

I want to say I do the latter most of the time.
Oh, really?
Even if no one else knows, God does.
God knows the attitude of my heart.

How I desire my heart to be a place that is suitable for God to dwell.
It is not on most days.
That is why I need a Savior.
I need Someone who never sinned; who exudes thankfulness, gratitude, and perfect love.

I need Someone to teach me how to be more like Him.
I will never be sinless in this life, but I can stand in His Righteousness before a holy God.
That is the only way I can stand.
It is not a sticker that I received but rather a seal of ownership.

And you were also included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in Him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession – to the praise of His glory. (Ephesians 1:13,14)

That seal, God’s sticker, should cause you to rejoice.
In Christ, you are redeemed.
In Christ, you have a Righteousness that is not your own.
In Christ, you have a deposit guaranteeing what is to come.

That is worth our praise.
That is worth our thankfulness.
Only in Christ is that attitude of gratitude is possible.
Really.