Who was she? An angel? The Lord himself in disguise?

Breaking two mirrors at once had put me in a bad mood, so I was not happy when the woman came up to my car begging for money.

Let me back up a minute and explain before I get into the heart of my story.

In addition to writing, editing and photographing The Ozarks Almanac and Workingman's Theology, I have two other jobs. My main full-time job is with a big-box home improvement store. In the late afternoon and evening, I cover local government for the local newspaper.

At the home improvement store, I am a combination merchandiser/housekeeper, although the title is "product service associate." The team to which I belong puts up displays, hangs signs and resets bays of merchandise. And we do a lot of sweeping, dusting, sometimes mopping, cleaning off adhesives left by price labels and painting of the shelf beams. It's a lot of manual labor, so I like it.

On this particular day, we were hanging mirrored medicine cabinets in a full bay, putting them in rows from the floor on up to about 10 feet. Late in the day, when we were nearing completion of the hanging and getting ready to start cleaning up, I came down a ladder with a medicine cabinet on my shoulder. As I stepped off the ladder, I stepped on a cabinet that I had placed on the floor on an earlier trip down the ladder. I broke that mirror and started to fall, dropping the cabinet that I was carrying, breaking it. if I were superstitious, I would have been scared to death.

I am not superstitious, but I was angry--mostly at myself for being so clumsy.

I cleaned up my own mess of broken mirrors, and we finished up, cleaned up all the other leftovers and went home.

Driving home I stewed about breaking merchandise. I decided to stop at the Kroger and get a can of peanuts for comfort before going to the newspaper office, which I did.

As I got into my car, I heard a woman saying, "Sir, sir, sir!"

"What?" I said, obviously irritated at the woman coming up to my car.

By now, I was seated behind the wheel with my hand on the door to close it.

"My little baby needs diapers, and I don't have any money. Can you help me?" she pleaded.

Now, I have a real distrust of beggars. Our town of only 20,000 has a bad problem of meth and heroin, so we have some thievery and scamming going on. Begging is a favorite way of scamming. i don't give money to people. I have bought a breakfast for a guy claiming to be hitchhiking through, and I bought groceries for a guy who said he and his wife were traveling and had spent their money on a hotel room. But I don't give out cash.

"You'll just spend it on drugs," I told the woman. "So, no."

She said, "No, I will buy diapers for my little boy. He needs them."

"I don't believe you," I said. "And I don't have much cash anyway."

"OK," she said. "Well, you keep what you have. Thank you anyway." And she started to walk away.

I guess I was feeling a little bit guilty, so I said, "Here, take this." I grabbed all the change I had in my consule cupholder. There was a handful, but it wasn't much.

"No, you keep it," the woman said.

"NO," I said, lifting my voice. "You take it. This is all I have left in cash." And it really was, for I had paid for the peanuts with my debit card.

She reached out and took the money, and then walked away. I closed my door, and drove off. I wasn't out of the parking lot, and I was already talking to Jesus.

"Oh, Lord, I guess I failed you again," I said. "There was a woman who might have truly been in need, and I didn't help her. Not only that, I was short-tempered with her. She might have been an angel that You sent to test me. I go to church on Sunday and thank you for saving me from my sins and ask you to help me follow You better, and here you give me a chance to actually do something for someone who might truly be in need, and I respond like that. I am ashamed."

When I got to the newsroom, I told my three colleagues what had happened. I admitted I was wrong. My Catholic buddy said, "You should have gone in and bought her a box of diapers if you didn't want to give her money."

"I know, I know. You don't have to tell me," I said. It is irritating for a Baptist to be corrected by a Catholic.

That night I prayed again for forgiveness, and I prayed for another chance to help someone. In fact, I prayed for a chance to help that same woman.

For weeks, I kept an eye out for her. One night, my wife asked me to stop at Kroger to get something, and that's when the guy who was traveling with his wife stopped me at the door on the way in and asked for help. He asked for money to buy some bologna and bread. I told him to go in and get what he needed for supper and meet me at the cash register so I could pay for it.

He did as he said. He got bologna and bread. I had told him to get some chips and cheese if he wanted. He had done that, and he had a package of cookies. "Do you mind if I get these for my wife?" he said. "If you do, I'll put them back."

"No, go ahead and get them for her," I said, and paid for his stuff.

I thanked the Lord for an opportunity to help someone, and I thanked Him for giving me the sense to help someone without complaining. I asked Him to let me help that woman again, if it were His will.

More weeks passed, and I backslid in my attitude. I wasn't looking to help anyone, and I had forgot about the woman at Kroger.

I was filling up with gasoline at the MotoMart across the street from Walgreens, when I heard a woman on the other side of the pumps talking to another motorist.

"Can you help me buy my little boy some medicine?" I heard her ask. And then I heard her say, "OK, thank you anyway."

Then she came over to my side of the pumps, and said, "Sir, sir, could you help me? I need to buy my little boy some medicine. He has a prescription waiting at Walgreens, but I don't have enough money to pay for it."

You're not going to believe this, but I recognized it as the same woman. And you're not going to believe this either, but after weeks of praying for an opportunity to help that same woman, my thoughts were this, "Well, good grief, I was right all along. She's just a scammer, after all. She's begging again, this time with a new approach. I don't feel so bad now."

Aloud, I said, "I'm sorry. I don't have any cash. I'm paying for this with my debit card. Don't have anything else. Sorry."

"OK, thank you anyway," she said, and walked off toward Walmart, and she was out of sight around the corner of the Motomart as I finished fueling.

I got in my car and was immediately stricken with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Lord," I said, and I drove off to catch her. By the time I got to her she was at the bottom of the hill at the corner. I pulled over, rolled down the window and said, "Listen, I don't have a lot of money in my account, and payday isn't until Friday. If it isn't too expensive, I'll go over there and pay for your boy's prescription."

She said, "It's only about $10."

"OK," I said. "If it is more than that, I won't be able to swing it. I am way down to the bottom of my bank account, and I'll still need to buy some stuff later in the week. I'll go on over there and pay for it if it's just $10."

I left her there, because I don't let women into my car with me unless my wife is with me.

She had told me the boy's name, and I told the pharmacist that I was there to pay for it, and that she would come and pick it up. The price he gave me was closer to $20 than to $10.

"Well, I guess I won't pay for it after all," I said, and I walked away from the counter.

Well, of course, I was again stricken with guilt.

"OK, Lord, you win," I said. "I'll pay for it, but You'll have to help me make ends meet later this week."

I went back to the pharmacist and said, "I'll go ahead and pay for it. The Lord has kicked me in the butt."

He laughed as I slid the debit card through the reader.

He gave me the receipt, and I said, "Now, let me make sure. Is that prescription for a baby?"

He said, "It's not for an infant, but it is for a small child."

Well, I figured that was close enough. After all, it had been several weeks, months even, since I had chewed the woman out for begging in the Kroger parking lot. The kid likely wasn't an infant.

I met the woman at the door on my way out.

"How did it go? Were you able to help?" she said.

"It's paid for and ready for you to pick up," I said.

"Oh, thank you," she said.

I  haven't seen her since..

A workingman is called to pray

I like it when I'm reading a book written for Christians and I run across a reference to working men and and women.

As I've said, I try to read a daily devotional at work during my breaks. The devotional guide I'm using this year for my morning break is titled "My Utmost for His Highest," by someone named Oswald Chambers.

Paging through it, i found this statement for one of the devotionals in October: "There is nothing thrilling about a labouring man's work, but it is the labouring man who makes the conception of the genius possible; and it is the labouring saint who makes the conceptions of his Master possible. You labour at prayer and results happen all the time from His standpoint."

It is good to think of myself as not only a workingman for the company, but a workingman for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Reading and meditating keeps me focused on Jesus, even at work

During 2021, instead of sitting in the employee breakroom for 15 minutes, drinking coffee and reading Twitter, I have tried to use my morning break for my devotional time.

My wife bought a book titled “The Bible in 365 Days for Men,” by Stefan Joubert, a couple of Christmases ago, so I used that book for my devotional reading. This fellow, Joubert, is a professor of Theology at someplace called the University of the Free State, wherever that is. Moreover, according to the short bio in the back of the book, he is “editor of a large e-church on the Internet.” I do not know what in the Sam Hill it means to be an “editor” of an “e-church.” I thought churches had pastors, not editors, but as a workingman, apparently I am ignorant of the real state of theology.

Despite all that church editor nonsense, this devotional book has been valuable to my spiritual life. For each day, Professor Joubert takes a big hunk of scripture and writes a brief thought about its meaning to preface each day’s reading. I like that the devotional reading is primarily scripture.

On the other hand, I also like the devotional guide I am using this year for my morning break, “My Utmost for His Highest,” by someone named Oswald Chambers. This author takes the other way of writing devotionals, using a verse, maybe two, of scripture each day with a short essay about his interpretation of the passage.

I like both books, so I use Chambers’s book in the morning break, and I am going through Joubert’s again this year, but for my afternoon break instead. I get some valuable insight from both authors, who use different approaches.

One of my co-workers asked what I was reading and when I showed her, she asked why.

I joked, “So you don’t have to ‘run, hide or fight’ on account of me.’” She laughed.

That was a bit of company humor, but, honestly, the reading and thinking about what the authors of the devotionals say about the scripture passages combine to keep me focused on Jesus even when I’m in the aisles working.

 

 

Get a real job like Paul the Apostle did

The Workingman shared his credo from I Thessalonians 4:11-12 a day or two ago. Today, also from I Thessalonians, The Workingman has found a couple of verses that he wishes all preachers, Bible teachers, missionaries, evangelists and theologians would adopt as their own credo. Here they are, I Thessalonians 2: 9-10:

“Don’t you remember, dear brothers, how hard we worked among you? Night and day we toiled and sweated to earn enough to live on so that our expenses would not be a burden to anyone there, as we preached God’s good news among you. You yourselves are our witnesses—as is God—that we have been pure and honest and faultless toward every one of you.”

The Workingman has, in the distant past, sent money to an evangelist or two he liked to listen to on the radio and then was flooded with mail for years thereafter, mail that was begging for money, promising miracles, quoting scripture to inform The Workingman that he was obligated to send more money, just generally being annoying so-called men of God.

Can you imagine modern-day dispensers of the Gospel saying such a thing as Paul said about being pleased that he didn’t have to ask for money?

The Workingman does not mind giving money to his church, and does from time to time, although not regularly. The Workingman found a teaching from Paul that says to give “as the Lord has prospered you.” Currently, The Workingman is not prospering as much as he has in the past, thanks to various health problems and the like, so there hasn’t been much prosperity to return to the Lord. The Workingman is waiting on the Lord and trying to give consistently and cheerfully.

My failure to work hard to win a soul to Christ

 

Years ago, after I had left full-time newspaper reporting to try magazine publishing for three years—and failed—I took a job as a retail associate at a large home improvement warehouse store. I needed the money and the benefits.

In my 15^th year as a retail associate, I’m generally happy with the job and have no regrets. I enjoy the customers and my co-workers. I like working with, around and near tools, lumber, hardware. I’m curious about the plumbing and electrical departments and try to learn about those products. For the most part, I’m not interested in flooring or paint or home décor. I do indeed like the garden center, both inside and outside.

One regret I have is my spiritual failure with a co-worker years ago.

I had seen an advertisement for a new store being built in a town about 25 miles from where I live, and I applied, as I needed some additional income to keep the magazine going. Eventually I was hired and joined the 100-plus-member crew to stock the empty shelves in the huge store building in preparation for the opening.

Over the weeks that passed, I guess it became clear to my co-workers that I was a follower of Jesus Christ. An associate in the millwork (doors and windows) department thought that was ridiculous. He had been raised in a Christian home, but he grew up to refute all of what he had learned. He identified himself as an atheist, and he tried to engage me in argumentation frequently.

He often talked about how silly it was of Christians to believe in Creation and to believe that we are the only living creatures in the vast universe.

The universe is so vast, he said, that it is impossible, mathematically speaking, to believe that we alone are the life in that universe.

“That takes a lot of faith to believe,” I said. “You’re putting trust in mathematics. Why not believe in God?”

He said it was because he didn’t want to have anything to do with religion.

I said, “You have a religion, Shawn. It is atheism. You have a set of beliefs, and you trust that what you believe to be true will ultimately be true. That is faith.”

Well, he tried to start an argument with me about every day.

Finally, I said, “Look, Shawn, I think I might be a Calvinist. Do you know anything about Calvinism?”

He said he did not.

“Well, I don’t know much about it, either,” I said. “But the way I understand it is that some people are elected to salvation, and some are elected to damnation. I believe I am elected to salvation, because I am interested in knowing God and I believe He is interested enough in me that He was born in the flesh as Jesus Christ to live a perfect life, take on all my sins when he died on the cross and then rise again to show that eternal life is available to me if I believe in Him. You, on the other hand, appear to be elected to damnation. You have no interest in knowing Him; he seems not to have put any interest in your heart. So, you’re not going to change my mind about Him, and you’re not going to change your own mind about Him. Let’s just talk about something else.”

He looked at me, was quiet, and then said, “I can’t believe you said that.”

And after that, we rarely talked, and when we did it was not about God.

Looking back, I see that I missed an opportunity to continue witnessing to Shawn. Looking back, it seems much clearer to me that he was indeed interest in knowing God. I failed, however, to help him get to know Him.

I pray that God worked through someone better than I to win Shawn to Christ.

 

Paul the Apostle writes The Workingman's Credo

The Workingman has read I Thessalonians, and he has decided Chapter 4, Verses 11-12 are his favorite part of this letter from Paul the apostle to the church at Thessalonica:

“This should be your ambition: to live a quiet life, minding your own business and doing your own work, just as we told you before. As a result, people who are not Christians will trust and respect you, and you will not need to depend on others for enough money to pay your bills.”

That’s The Workingman’s Credo right there. What workingman doesn’t want to just go to work every day and do a good job for the boss, then go home to the wife and kids, maybe do a little yard work or some other chore, eat a good supper, read the paper, read a book, pay attention to the family, read the Bible, pray, take a shower, go to bed and do it all again the next day, then have the weekend to do something with the family, maybe fix something around the house or yard, weed the garden, go to church on Sunday, grill some meat, maybe have a beer or two while grilling, then go to bed early to get ready for the start of another week? And we do it all to pay the bills to take care of the family.

That all sounds good to The Workingman, but the rest of the world and probably most preachers and church members would say The Workingman lacks ambition.

But Paul the Apostle says that should be The Workingman’s Christian ambition, and Paul claims to be speaking for the Good God Almighty Hisself, so there you go.