neorants

“I’m going to hell, but I’m okay with it. There’s a special place reserved just for me.”

These were the words of a cashier at the grocery store I went to last night after church, spoken to the bagger just as I walked up to the register. Initially, I wrote them off as a joke, as nobody who believes there’s a hell to go to would really be okay with going there… would they? I got my grocery bags, loaded them in the car, and sat there with my keys in the ignition. 

But I couldn’t bring myself to drive away. Kyle Idleman had just delivered a sermon entitled “Making a Difference: Conviction to Speak Up,” and the conversation now occurring went something like this:

What do you think you’re doing?
     I’m driving home to put away my groceries.
After what you just heard that girl say?
     She was probably just joking.
Were you even paying attention in church tonight?
     Don’t make me go back in there. She’ll think I’m insane.
If she was serious when she made that comment, don’t you think she stands to lose a lot more than you do?
     Maybe I could pretend I forgot to buy something?
Just get back in there before she’s gone and your chance to make a difference is past.

I walked around the store clumsily looking for some small item to pretend I forgot. When I finally rounded to the checkout counter, she wasn’t there. 

I hurriedly scanned the area, and caught her by the customer service counter, getting ready to leave and chatting with a friend. As I walked up to her, her gaze turned to me. Yeah, she definitely thought I was crazy already. Great.

“I’m sorry, but I just had to come back and ask you: You don’t really think you’re going to hell, do you?”
     “Probably. But it’s okay.” 
“You think I’m crazy — you just don’t believe it actually exists, right? Don’t be nice to me just because I’m a customer. You can tell me you think I’m nuts.”
     “No, I think it exists. But it’s okay. I’m okay with it.”
“I think that’s really sad. Why are you okay with it?”
     “Well,  I deserve it. I’ve done bad things. I’m always getting angry.”
“So?! You think God wants you to go to hell for getting angry? You’ve heard about the whole Christ thing, right?” (Yes, my attempt to explain the saving grace of Christ to this girl was this clumsy and inarticulate.)
       “Yeah, I know… but, it’s okay.”
“Well, look, I can tell I’m weirding you out right now, but I just wanted you to know that God loves you.”
     “I know… it’s okay.” 

I knew at that point that I had worn out my welcome, so I walked to my car, bewildered by our exchange. I’d expected her to say almost anything except “Yes, I believe in hell, and I think I’m going there.” How sad. How helpless she must have felt, to be acutely aware of her own failings. To know that she isn’t deserving of a place in His kingdom, but be unable or unwilling to accept the grace that God offers through Christ.

Hopefully the next time I go, I’ll have the chance to pick up where we left off, and tell her:

“I don’t even know your name, and I think you’re worth saving from hell. How much more do you think the God who created you and loved you enough to send His Son to pay the price for your sins wants to save you?” (by the way, if you don’t know Christ, that same message goes for you, too.)

In the meantime, I prayed for her when I got back to my car, and prayed that God would use my words, however clumsy and unpracticed, to remind her that He loves her.

So, that’s my story on speaking up. What’s yours?