I wrote this short story a couple of years a go with the hope that God would reveal more stories like this one. But, like the woman in this story, life’s busyness took over, and I wasn’t listening as closely as I used to. I think it’s time to change that! I hope you enjoy the story.
Once upon a time, there were four lovely ladies who met regularly to chit chat over coffee. It’s true that there is nothing unusual or extraordinary to see four ladies seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop chatting lively over their steaming cups. In fact, the ladies themselves were not unusual or extraordinary even. They were, in fact, no more unusual or extraordinary than, say, you or I. They just happened to be four ladies who attended the same church and who just happened to fall into an easy, albeit unlikely, friendship.
So, who were these ladies who were laughing and crying together at the best window table in your favorite coffee shop each week? Meet Elyse, Allison, Lauren, and Marilyn. Four of the most ordinary, average ladies you could ever meet, yet each one was unique in her own right. Like you and I, they each had their own special story to tell, but deep down at the very core of their Christ-loving hearts, they were the same.
I’m not going to tell you they’re individual stories just yet. That’s not the story God gave me today. Today, we are just going to do a little eavesdropping on the very animated conversation emanating from the window seat. I should tell you that our ladies have just gotten their coffees and are settling in at their table.
After the initial pleasantries and hugs all around, Lauren, a pleasingly plump stay-at-home mom, excitedly opened the conversation the same way they opened the conversation every week, “Wasn’t that an awesome service on Sunday?”
Allison rolled her eyes, looking remarkably like her teenage daughter did just hours before when Allison made a similar comment, and said, “Lauren, you say that every week.”
Lauren’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I know,” she gushed on, “I can’t help it. I just love how Pastor Rich gives his messages each week.”
Racing to her rescue, Elyse quickly added, “Oh, I know, aren’t they just so inspiring?”
“I guess. But this week, I couldn’t help thinking, ‘How stupid can you be?’” Allison paused a moment, sipped her coffee, and took in the surprised looks on her friends faces. “Oh, don’t give that dropped-jaw wide-eyed look. You were thinking it, too. I mean, come on, here was Jesus, talking the talk, walking the walk, performing miracle after miracle, and they mocked Him. They scorned Him. They conspired against Him. They arrested Him. They beat Him. They nailed Him to a cross. Hello. How did they not get who He was? How stupid can you be?”
Lauren looked down, gripped her cup, and replied in her usual unusual fashion, “I guess it all depends on which newspaper you read.”
The other ladies were quite used to Lauren’s odd way of seeing things, but Allison wasn’t in the mood for riddles today. “What exactly does that mean?”
Lauren wasn’t offended by Allison’s tone. They’d been friends for too long for that. She just smiled and explained, “Well, look at it this way. If you read a good newspaper with accurate reporting you get accurate news. If you read supermarket tabloids you get junk. Those who listened to Jesus knew who was, those who listened to the Pharisees got junk.”
“Oh, I like that,” chimed in Elyse. “It kind of works for everyday, too, doesn’t it? You listen to God, you get abundant life. You listen to the world, you get junk.”
Marilyn reached over and covered Elyse’s hand with her own, then affecting her favorite matronly look she said, “Oh, Elyse, honey, it doesn’t just ‘kind of’ apply to everyday. It most certainly applies to every minute of every hour of everyday. If we don’t keep our eyes on God, we won’t even be able to recognize Him when He returns.”
Suddenly, Allison gasped and pointed out the window, “Would you look at that!”
“Wow, what a crowd. I wonder what’s going on,” Lauren added, her curiosity piqued a bit.
“Looks like a homeless convention,” giggled Elyse.
Allison, disgust emphasizing each word, said, “Well, I for one wish they would do something about it. What a mess!”
“Allison!” Lauren gasped, “That’s not very charitable!”
“Oh, don’t you go getting on that high horse of yours,” Allison snapped back. “You know very well you don’t like it any more than I do. You just don’t say it.”
“It looks like they’re all gathered around the guy in the middle. Wow, he could sure use a haircut and some real clothes” Elyse commented while trying to decide which of her husband’s old clothes might fit the destitute man in the middle.
However, Lauren’s curiosity was starting to get the best of her, “I wonder what he’s talking about with them.”
Allison’s hostility rang out clearly as she answered, “Probably making plans to mug us when we leave the shop.”
“Oh, Allison,” said Elyse, “you make me laugh. They’re just sitting there talking. Like us. They’re probably hungry, though.”
But Allison wasn’t able to see these people as God’s least of these. Instead she sat back, crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window. “They are so not ‘like us,’” she spat out between clenched teeth. “I just hope someone calls the authorities. And soon. It’s almost time for me to go pick up Jason from practice. I am not going out that door with a bunch of crazies right there.”
“Allison, honey, what has gotten into you? I know you are a sarcastic little firecracker by nature, but you are not usually this judgmental, or, I daresay, mean.” Marilyn’s sweet southern drawl and gentle manners often softened her blunt, to the point, I-tell-it-like-I-see-it comments.
Allison raised her hands as if in defense of an attack, but her voice still held its hostile edge. “I know, I know. I guess sometimes it’s just tough for me to watch my husband work so hard everyday and then see this. It’s hard to be charitable when I could use a little charity myself.”
“Someone hasn’t been counting her blessings lately,” Marilyn tisked.
“Alright already,” Allison exclaimed. “You caught me. No, I haven’t counted my blessings lately. It’s kind of hard to do that when I’m racing the kids to all of their activities, checking homework, working a job, doing ministry, not to mention cooking and cleaning and running a household. So maybe the sermon this week has me a bit unnerved. I haven’t read even a single verse in weeks. My life has been filled with so much busyness I can’t think let alone ‘contemplate on the Word of God.’ So, there’s Pastor Rich up there reminding me how awful I am, and that I’d probably be one of the scorners who threw stones at Jesus. Now there’s this homeless guy across the street who’s probably Jesus, and I want to have him thrown in jail so we can get back to what’s really important, the latest sales and news about Joe and Barb’s divorce before I have to race off to more busyness.”
Marilyn smiled. “Feel better now?”
Allison laughed that tiny little laugh you laugh when you’ve just realized you’ve made a complete spectacle of yourself. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Suddenly the table is filled with comforting, understanding smiles. “Good,” says Lauren. “Now, where are the best sales this week?”
Poor Allison. She just isn’t having the best day, is she? She’s tired. She’s emotional. But, most importantly, she’s convicted. Boy, that’s a tough one. God sure knows exactly when, where and how to get our attention. Allison doesn’t react very well to God’s message for her. She’ll probably struggle a while with putting God first again, but eventually she’ll put away her To-Do list and go back to doing His work. What about you? Have you pushed Him down to the bottom of your To Do list? If you have, are you ready for Him to get your attention back? He will, you know. He loves us that much. I’ll just pray that you are like Allison and in the company of good friends when it happens.
By the way, did you catch the other lesson in our story today? Yep, the guy in the park. So, who is he? Is he Jesus? Is he a prophet? Or is he just a guy in the park? But more important than who he is, is who are you? Are you Allison who looks at this man and sees a problem? Or are you Elyse who sees a charity case in need of new clothes? Or are you Marilyn who dismisses him entirely and focuses on the more immediately problem of fixing a wrong attitude? Or are you Lauren, intrigued by what this man has to say that is so riveting that he’s drawn a crowd, but in the end won’t listen if it means going alone.
Who are you inside? We’d all like to be that one person that’s not sitting at the table. The one who’s not afraid to listen. The one with the ears to hear. The one who would recognize Jesus when He knocked on the door. I would love to say that I’d be that person who actually obeyed to the Holy Spirit’s urging to listen, but my worldly concerns would probably get the better of me. The weather, the crowd of unsavory characters, the fear of standing outside the norm would send me racing back to the conversation about the upcoming sales, a nice safe topic.
Perhaps, that fifth person who is filled with the wisdom of Solomon and the faith of a child will never join our lovely ladies in the coffee shop. Instead, it may be more interesting to watch how iron sharpens iron as God works in each of their lives.
Thank you for stopping by! I posted this little story a couple of years ago on my old blog and thought it was time for a re-run. Thank you for indulging me. Maybe we’ll get to see more of our ladies in the near future.
Grace and peace be yours in abundance,
Betty
