The Watch Battery

I sat in the chair getting ready for my pedicure.
It is one of those little luxuries for which I am grateful.
It is always so much fun to pick the nail polish color.
However, I always choose from the same color palette, practically the same color each time.

I looked down at my watch.
I knew that the time could not possibly be correct.
It was showing a time that was a half hour before my appointment.
I knew that when I got out of my car the clock told me that I was three minutes early.

I looked at the second hand which was frozen in place.
My watch needed a new battery.
There is no visible clock in the salon.
It is almost as if when you enter, time is supposed to go away.

There is something relaxing about that.
However, in my case, not knowing the time on my watch kept me thinking about the time.
I had something I needed to do after my pedicure.
Having no idea of the time was a bit frustrating.

My plans could wait.
The first thing I needed to do was to go to get a new watch battery.
There is a kiosk at the mall nearby.
I have taken all my watches there over the years since they replace the battery as you wait.

They even have a little punch card.
Buy ten watch batteries and get the next one free.
I filled up a punch card once before.
This would only be my second punch on this card.

The man at the kiosk was working on something.
He had a large piece of leather string in his mouth.
His teeth were holding it in place as he tied it to the fabric he was manipulating in his hands.
Scraps of material, cut in rectangular shapes were piled beside him.

How can I help you? He asked with a pleasant voice.
I need a new watch battery, I said as I took the watch off my left arm.
I was about to tell him where I had been and mention that there was no visible clock.
I thought better of the idea.

What are you making? I asked him pointing to the piles of fabric.
Dolls, he said, pointing to a box that was filled with primitive cloth dolls.
They are there in the case, he pointed, as he expertly replaced the battery and set the time.
I looked to see rows and rows of little fabric dolls.

I thought of corn husk dolls and how much these dolls resembled them.
I looked at the baseball hat he was wearing.
I saw an insignia and a picture of a ship stitched on the front.
On the side of the hat were numbers and dates.

I didn’t want to stare and I couldn’t read them quick enough.
When did you serve? I asked him, taking a chance.
From 1999-2003, he answered.
I looked at his arms covered in tattoos; I looked into his kind eyes.

Thank you for your service, I said to him as my voice cracked.
I want to ask you if it was difficult, but that seems like a terrible question to ask, I stammered.
It wasn’t so bad over there during my deployment, but then the Towers were hit, he said.
The look in his eyes told me that he remembered.

Were you away when that happened? I asked wanting to know more but not wanting to pry.
I was sent there…he paused; I was in New York City after they were struck.
There was so much unsaid in his words.
There was so many memories in his eyes.

Thank you so much for serving so we can be free, I said with tears in my eyes.
He reached his tattooed arm up to the visor of his hat.
The hat with the ship stitched across the front and the number and the dates I now knew.
He tipped the visor; Thank you, ma’am. My pleasure.

He thanked me for thanking him.
He tipped his hat at me, the hat with the ship and the numbers and the dates.
He told me that it was his pleasure to serve.
There were no words.

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, asking for help. “Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed and in terrible suffering.” Jesus said to him, “I will go and heal him.” The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, He was astonished and said to those following Him, “I tell you the truth, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith…” Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! It will be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that very hour. (Matthew 8:5-10, 13)

The centurion was used to giving commands.
The centurion was used to people obeying his every order.
However, when the centurion’s servant was sick, there was only One who could heal him.
The centurion came to Jesus to make his request.

Jesus was astonished at the centurion’s faith.
Astonished because the centurion realized there was One greater than him.
There was One from whom he would take the orders.
There was One whom he should obey.

Can you imagine if Jesus thanked the centurion for his service?
Can you imagine if the centurion thanked Jesus for thanking Him?
Can you imagine if the centurion added, It was my pleasure?
Since the centurion knew the One who was greater than him, it really was his pleasure.

We long to hear those words from Jesus: Well done, good and faithful servant.
That is all a good soldier wants to hear.
And we are good soldiers when we follow our Commanding Officer.
Our only response to Him on that day: It was my pleasure, Lord Jesus.