By Kris Judd
Des Moines, Iowa, USA
The day started well, but by noon it was full of bad news. Unnecessary appointments, frustrations, and freezing rain made my drive home a challenge.
A long line formed in the drive-through lane, but I wanted to treat myself. I decided I could wait a few minutes. The line inched forward. Urgent texts and emails begged my attention, and my anxiety grew. I was trapped in the lane for seven minutes before placing my small order.
The cars before me crept forward, and it was ten more minutes before I reached the pickup window. The girl offered a quick apology for my wait. Ordinarily, I would have accepted that with grace and made a joke to lighten the mood. But that day I surprised myself with a curt response. When she gave me my chips, I rudely handed them back, insisting the “hot” chips were anything but.
Her manager heard my frustration, stepped in, and gave me a fresh, hot order and an apology.
It would have been easy to convince myself that my first reaction not only had been reasonable, but that it didn’t matter in the long run. But it did matter—to me and the girl who served me.
I shared my surprising reaction with a few who know me well. They tried to assure me I had every right to be frustrated, even angry. But I was not assured. I was uncomfortable and embarrassed.
The Holy Spirit was convicting me that repentance was needed, for my sake at the very least.
Monday afternoon I drove to the restaurant and bravely entered. I spotted the same young woman behind the counter. When our eyes met, I motioned that I needed to talk with her. When I began to apologize, she appeared to remember the incident. “Oh, yeah, the hot chips,” she said, which let me know it had bothered her, too.
I apologized for my rudeness and indicated it had been a rough morning. She apologized and shared that hers had been, as well. We smiled, shook hands, and thanked each other.
It would have been easy to convince myself that my first reaction not only had been reasonable, but that it didn’t matter in the long run. But it did matter—to me and the girl who served me. And offering an apology and receiving forgiveness mattered even more, for in the girl’s welfare resides my own.
Amen.