I like candy corn. I enjoy the taste, the color, the texture... it's all very appealing, so I like it. But I long for meat. I start craving it if I go too long without it. I long to be satisfied, to eat something that does more than simply cater to my taste buds.
This is my metaphor for Saturdays and Sundays. I love Saturdays because I love working at Smokey Mountain and seeing all my friends there. I love getting to be around them for hours, while also working to make the customers happy. Its a fun balance between work and pleasure.
But at the end of every Saturday, I find myself literally longing for Sunday. I long to be at church. To be made full again. Because nothing else can satisfy me.
As much as I love my friends, I do have to put up some barricades; I can't just let everything in. Not everyone there knows that I'm a christian, and thus not everyone knows that swearing bothers me. I think after last night most people there do know, but that's because I pretty much cracked and started scolding people if they swore within hearing distance of me. Bryan, who likes to come "chat" with me whenever he's not busy serving, makes an effort to not swear around me, but it wasis pitiful. He's so used to it, that trying to find real words to put in the swear words' place is really hard for him. He trips and stumbles all over his words. Its hilarious and completely horrible at the same time. To think that someone can be so brainwashed by this that they can't even speak without using it as a crutch.
As much of an impact as I've made on my closer friends there, I know that I can't get everyone to stop. There's always someone not paying attention to the fact that I'm around, or someone who just plain doesn't know that it bothers me. So I can't get away from it. I have had an impact on the amount of profanity that one hears (especially during cleanup), yes, but I can't stop it.
I love working there. I love my friends there. I love my Saturdays. But after eight hours of all this, I become antsy and need an escape. I can escape to home for a while, but that's not enough. I am scarred now, and need the grace to get past it. The only thing that can give me that grace is God, and there's no place better to receive that grace than in the midst of friends and family, worshiping Him. The only thing that can make me whole again, that can give me the strength to block out what could easily be instilled in my mind if I didn't try, the only thing that can save me is God.
Saturdays are a test, a difference from the rest of the week, fun. Saturdays are candy corn. But Sundays are refilling, beautiful, and longed for. Sundays are meat.
2 comments:
Great post Faith!
Having been in a college classroom (community college, obviously not NSA) where a large amount of profanity and obscenity were thrown around casually, with even professors joining in, I sympathize. Just keep being a witness for the gospel by being real. Don't stifle your laughter at a truly funny joke or situation because an unnecessary curse word was thrown in. Obviously there's a point at which you don't laugh, when there's only dirt and nothing really substantive. But in the meantime, I'd say make sure they know you're a real person, not an up-tight prude. I very much doubt you're in trouble there :) Anyways, there's my 5 cents worth. Keep the faith!
Thank you, Kaleb! I apprecaiate the advise! :D I don't think I'm coming across as "an up-tight prude" (not yet, anyhow, heh) because I was nominated on Wednesday as everyone's favorite salad maker. I guess that's a good thing, although it doesn't exactly exclude the possibility of my being a prude, haha. Hm... well anyhow, thanks for the comment! :)
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