Two Cents Worth

There are missionaries all over the world.
There are people to be reached all across the globe.
Just as important, if not more so, are the people in our own backyards.
The people that we see everyday but do not really see.

Their needs may not seem as great as the needs of people living in poverty or oppression.
Their needs are quieter.
Their needs can easily go by the wayside.
We can look right through them on any given day.

I am not talking about homeless people we see on a city street.
I am talking about people that can easily fall through the cracks.
They are people that are so much like you and me.
They are you and me.

Did you ever notice the answer you get when you ask someone, How are you?
Fine, thanks, is usually their response.
Ask them again.
Go ahead, ask them again.

You may hear a very different answer.
You may get a long answer to a short question.
You may be the only person who was interested enough to ask.
Be ready for the answer you may hear.

We have a mission field in our own backyard.
We have a mission field in our neighborhood.
We have a mission field in our schools.
We have a mission field right where we are.

I am not talking about handing out Bible tracks.
I am not talking about preaching.
I am not talking about trying to convert anyone on the spot.
I am simply talking about taking the time to love them as Jesus loves them.

The grocery store is a mission field to me.
I am simply there to buy my groceries.
God has other ideas.
God amazes me with His other ideas.

I was in the produce section and I saw her.
A young girl I see often, though I see her in different areas of the store.
I am not sure if management decided to move her around or she asked to be moved around.
She was keeping the produce section neat for the past few weeks.

I said, Hi, to her and she smiled.
You always keep everything looking so nice, I told her meaning every word.
Thank you, I really try, she said.
She moved from the apples to the tomatoes, where I was headed.

I could tell that she wanted to talk.
Today’s my last day, she told me.
Oh, I’m going to miss you, I said.
I have two weeks before I go to school, she continued.

Where do you go to school? I asked her.
She told me that she was beginning to take classes at a local community college.
She told me what she would like to study.
But I still need to get a job, she said, I help my parents pay the bills, she said quietly.

She has a hint of an accent.
She just graduated from high school.
I wondered if there was a language barrier for her parents.
I wondered why she needed to help them.

None of those questions could be asked.
The conversation continued to be about her.
She would like to try to babysit in the afternoon so she can take classes in the morning.
I like to help people, she told me.

I gave her some suggestions about looking for  jobs.
Perhaps she could call her high school career center.
Perhaps they knew of a family that could use some after school help.
I never thought of that, she said excitedly.

I listened to her.
I tried to encourage her.
I never even knew your name, I admitted since I never saw her name tag.
She pulled her name tag out of her apron pocket; I saw that her name is the name of a flower.

I said, Goodbye, to her.
Something prompted me to give her a hug.
She was delighted to have had someone take some interest in her.
She will do just fine, the girl who loves to help people and whose name is a flower.

As I went through the checkout line, the cashier talked to me.
We discussed the fresh vegetables that we both loved.
Then out of the blue, she started to talk about one of her children.
Since I don’t know her and I don’t know her child, perhaps I was safe.

She was troubled.
She knew that she was talking to another mom; that had been established.
My questions did not pry but gave her a platform to continue.
She spoke her heart and I told her that I would pray for her.

I have no idea why I just told you all of that, she said with a smile.
She told me the total that I owed her: $102.02.
I gave her the cash and looked into the change compartment of my wallet.
I had just cleaned out my pennies and put them in our penny jar.

I have a nickel, I said to her holding a nickel in my hand.
No, I have pennies, she said.
I will put in the two cents, she said.
Then she started to laugh.

I’m putting in my two cents, she said, How about that?
We both laughed.
You listened to me and I’m giving you my two cents, she said still finding it amusing.
She looked at the woman behind me in line who was not amused.

It is no longer a metaphor, I said to her.
You were worth more than two cents, she said.
I wondered what it was I did for her.
I reached across and grabbed her hand and told her I will pray for her.

She asked my name.
I saw her name on her name tag.
I hope I can go through her checkout line again.
I want to know how she is doing.

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2)

We each have a mission field in our own backyard.
Our mission field is right in front of us.
It takes time and attention.
We are to love others as Jesus loves them.

Jesus listened to every person He met.
Jesus asked questions that engaged them and helped the conversation move along.
Jesus experienced detours as He traveled about, yet those detours never deterred Him.
Those detours were important to the Kingdom.

Kingdom living.
Detours on our journey.
People that need our time and attention.
People that need to be loved as Jesus loves them.

Where is your mission field?

2 responses to “Two Cents Worth”

1. It seems God continually gives you opportunities to engage with people you meet–and you take advantage of each one! God bless you and the people you meet–you are doing God’s work every day!

   Reply

   • Sue,
     It is a blessing and a privilege to be used in such a small way. I truly believe that those opportunities are all around us every day. God will show us and He will equip us.
     Blessings,
     Gina

     Reply