Milk-run

Tonight, our milk tank (fridge) was on empty and at 12:23 am I decided I’d do my family a favor and go on a little milk run. I left the house and pulled up to wall-mart and went inside feeling quite pleasant about my glorious deed I was doing for my family. What a wonderful blessing that I am to my Mom. I was speculating as to whether of not this deed would make me her favorite.

I walked through the bare aisles of wall-mart passing stockers and pull carts loaded with food for the following day. I reached the produce section and found the milks I was looking for. On the way back to the front I grabbed some bread. I yawned a few times cause it was getting late. I’ve been busy the last few days. I reached the front and started checking my items out, and saw beer lying on the counter. The clerk was telling the other clerk to go restock the beer. I guess Wall-Mart’s policy is that they won’t sell alcohol after midnight. I guess the people that were in line in front of me, now walking out, had tried to purchase some. I remember thinking to myself that it was probably a good thing they didn’t have beer tonight. That’s a good policy for wall-mart to make.

I walked out to my car, and on my way, parked nearby were the people that tried to buy the beer. There was a man in his mid-twenties wearing sagging black jeans and a dirty shirt. His hair was disgusting and I don’t suppose he had showered in weeks. He was holding a baby’s bottle in his hand. His girl friend standing next to him, also in her mid to early twenties, was wearing an awfully unflattering t-shirt, with gym shorts and flip-flops. From twenty feet away I could see the outline of a horrific black eye, and in her arms was a baby that the two were obviously trying to feed. They got the bottle situated and the man got in the car with the baby. As the women walked around to the passenger side door of the car, her gaze met mine.

I saw her blood-shot eyes hopelessly bound to the abuse of this man and of this world. I saw a woman locked in a prison of no escape bound to her place as trash in society for life. I saw in her a broken, torn heart… and I looked away…I hurried along to my car glancing over my shoulder as the couple’s car sped away.

I got to the house and put the milk in the refrigerator. It was close to twelve forty now. The kitchen was a little dirty so I went ahead and cleaned it. My Mom’s love language is service; I knew I would be her favorite now. I felt better too.

I had done my token deed for the day. I sacrificed a little time and money on the altar of my plastic Jesus idol that has so comfortably formed in my mind. My sweet deed had soothed the quiet throbbing of Christian inadequacy for the night. I could go to bed at peace with myself knowing that I had done something “nice” for my mom.

But as I prepared to go to bed the only image that crossed my mind was the black eye of that girl from wall-mart, the baby in her arms and the man by her side. I imagined what their night tonight was like and my heart broke. I remembered her gaze, reaching out for love, longing for affection, staring into my eyes, as I quickly turned away. She saw the cold shoulder of the world yet again, this time through me. I looked away from a woman whose life had never seen joy—a woman who had never seen the love of Jesus. I gave her nothing, not even a smile. I had run from the chance to be a light of love for Christ, because her trashy clothes and drunken husband made me uncomfortable. I looked away because I feared a gridlocked stare with this woman might get “awkward.” I, in the darkness of the wall-mart parking lot, blended into the darkness--Faded away into blackness like the black ring that surrounded her eye. I, like the world, had given her one more black eye.

But I had done my good deed for the day, I had got my family milk for breakfast in the morning, and I had even cleaned the kitchen…

Lord, have mercy.