So many times I wonder what it must be like to work in a pharmacy. To see people pass by all day long with conditions no one would probably ever recognize, yet I, the pharmacist know the prescriptions behind the labels. I, the pharmacist, know something about these people that they probably keep hidden from millions around them. The writer in me creates character sketches everywhere that I go. It's a habit. I see a person, and before I realize it, I'm formulating some sort of story about who they are, where they've come from, and where they're going. It's mostly objective. 99% of the time, there is no judgment attached to these observations, just an assembly of facts and a few conclusions based on evidence.
I like to watch what people buy. I'll look at the conveyor belt for the person in front of me and notice diapers, frozen dinners, kitty litter, a sketch pad, and a pack of gum. Then, I notice the youngish looking woman with no ring on her left hand and an infant on her hip. My mind postulates a scenario about her life. I'm not judging her, just... observing.
Sometimes, when I catch myself doing this, I start to look at myself from the outside in the same manner.
I see a woman with eyeliner pushed up under her eyes, pony tail, t-shirt, and jeans. She's got a pre-school-aged daughter on one hip. The little girl's hair is combed, but one of her to pig tails is falling out. She's got a young boy with her as well. He looks like he just got out of bed. There's a halo of fuzz on the back of his head, and he's wearing an oversized "Hickory Hill" t-shirt, sweatpants, and untied shoes. The little girl is reaching down toward the floor, and the mother is struggling to hold her on her hip while digging through her oversized purse looking for her prescription orders. She haphazardly sets the four-year-old down while looking up apologetically at the pharmacist. The four-year-old darts into a hidden aisle with her brother while the mom heaves a sigh, blows the bangs out of her eyes, and begins to unload the oversized purse onto the counter.
Finally, the woman produces the prize. One prescription for "Strattera", a well-known ADHD medication bearing the name of her seven year old son, one prescription for an anti-depressant with her name on it, and a refill order for an anti-anxiety medication, also for the woman. She slides them across the counter to the overly patient pharmacist and absently shovels the mess back into her purse while calling out the name of her two children. The younger comes sliding out of one of the aisles on her belly.
"Date of Birth?" the pharmacist asks.
"Mine?" the woman answers, bewildered. Turning to her daughter, she asks the whereabouts of her son. Her daughter shrugs and runs back into another aisle.
"Yes," the pharmacist affirms.
"Oh," the woman responds, and gives the appropriate answer with her face turned to the side of the window.
"ZAC!" the woman calls.
"What time do you want these picked up?"
"I don't care", the woman answers with a half-smile. She manages to snag the four year old by the arm as she runs by and heaves her onto her hip. The daughter protests loudly.
"I'll put it in for 2:45," the pharmacist decides aloud.
"Great. Thanks," the woman answers and then disappears in search of her son.
The pharmacist looks over the prescriptions again. ADHD medicine, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety. Makes sense.
How is she supposed to know that Jesus is living and reigning strong in my life? :) I know that I WAY over-think things like this. The pharmacist probably just does her job with very little regard for the details. But as I was leaving the store, I thought, "How is anyone to know that I'm living the life of a victorious Christian?"
God spoke to my heart, then.
The truth of the matter is that the Spirit of Christ spills out of me in a way that is supernatural. It's nothing I DO, it's a byproduct of Him in me. Regardless the circumstances.
The other truth is that I am living my life for an audience of ONE. And while it may seem that "all the world's a stage", ultimately, it is the Lord who looks upon the heart of man. He sees a woman after His own heart, who loves Him dearly and is living out each day to the best of her ability to honor Him and serve the Kingdom.
2 Corinthians 4:6-12, and 16-18 (The Message)
"It started when God said, "Light up the darkness!" and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful. If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That's to prevent anyone from confusing God's incomparable power with us.
As it is, there's not much chance of that. You know for yourselves that we're not much to look at. We've been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we're not sure what to do, but we know what God wants to do; we've been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn't left our side; we've been thrown down, but we haven't broken...
So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace... There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever."
Wow, God. I come as I am and ask you to use me in my humanity to change the world for you.
I'm willing. Send me. Thanks for Grace. It's all I have, and all I'll ever need.
I got this in the mail today anonymously. So if you sent it, Thank You. It really blessed me. :)
"My Precious Child,
My all-seeing lamp searches out your very spirit and your inmost being. I know the real you that you sometimes try to hide.
I perceive your thoughts and even know what you are going to say before you say it.
If only you realized how precious you are to me! I'm continuously thinking good thoughts of you --
thoughts that outnumber all the grains of sand in the entire world.
Thinking fondly of you,
-Proverbs 20:27, Psalm 139
(Author Unknown to me)