I got the idea from a blog: to practice a different virtue every day of Lent. Excitedly, I took down my kitchen calendar and filled in each square with a different virtue. Progress is - interesting! Some days, more than I'd care to admit, are blank: some have stars. Oh yes today gets a star, but for a completely different reason than I figured on .....................
I needed to go to the bank this morning.
We're talking, the local, small-town, they know me, THEY REALLY KNOW ME!, bank. The one where I was waiting to go inside on a frigid winter morning, so I was sitting in my vehicle - and just happened to be looking the other way, too - when I distinctly heard: JEAN, GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE, GIRL! Not kidding! Local, small-town, yes! they know me ;)
Ok - I may not do the makeup thing anymore, but <she sniffs> I do have SOME pride left. I have one pair of jeans that (sort of) fits me. They're the only ones that I don't swim in (ok - the legs ...), that don't fall off my hips, that either have to be donated or are donated. YES - they need to be replaced, but I'm at this weird in-between size, can't just buy without trying .... Be that as it may, when I go out, I wash, I brush things, and especially if its not going to be a coat-bundling day, I try to dress appropriately: i.e. nothing I slept in; hardware ....
Sooo .... I'm standing at the tellers window and the young girl with the covetous life is waiting on me, and The Bank Manager (heretofor referred to as T.B.M.) walks behind me and - "Jean, are you losing weight?!" Of course, for most women, that would be hearing the Gloria chorus; I wince. "You're not - sick - are ya?!" T.B.M. looks concerned that she made a gaffe.
I smiled and simply replied the truth, "No, no ... its called The Poverty Diet."
Thats the truth - I've lost 40 lbs off the last several years of hitting food pantries, because nearly half of what I get, I know would make me ill, so I pass it along.
So I finish my transaction, thank the teller, and as I'm walking towards the exit --
"Wait, Jean!" says T.B.M. "You're not finished yet!" I stand there, confused, while she dashes back into her office and --
She returns, grinning and handing me a dozen eggs, and says, "I just went shopping, and I would like you to have these!"
As I said to one pre-Christian friend, I found out what its like to feel BOTH embarrassed and blessed at the same time! ... But there was something -else -- something --deeper: God was using T.B.M. to teach me acceptance - of a handout; of my station in life - of a dozen eggs that I really could use, too!
I smiled and thanked her ... and I earned my star for Acceptance today, too!