An Angel At The Chick-fil-A

As my days seem to go lately, I end up surprised by what happens. Today was no different. And although it was totally unlike anything I had planned or would have wanted for my day, I ended up blessed by a complete stranger...a teenager working the drive-thru window at the Chick-fil-A I stopped by today. I've probably traumatized the poor kid forever. I will be "that one lady that started balling in front of me at the drive-thru window". Always and forever. I guess everyone deserves some kind of memory like that in their working career. It's nice to know I will live on in his mind, in that way...

Here's the story.

One of my close friends asked me to attend a counseling session with her this morning, at a nearby church. It was scheduled a couple of hours before my work shift started, but I had another appointment right before that, so I wasn't sure if I would be able to make it. I also wasn't sure I wanted to make it. Having friends, or being part of a family, means that sometimes you are forced to sacrifice for the sake of the relationship, because the other person is in need. I know this goes against everything we are taught in "the real world", but to keep relationships you have to be willing to sacrifice. If you aren't, or they aren't, walk away quickly, or don't even bother. It won't last, and you won't end up happy. Sometimes you're asked to do more than you think is your fair share. Sometimes that's okay. Because when the shoe is on the other foot...

Anyway, I got out of my appointment, and went over to the nearby church, where I impatiently waited for the elderly receptionist to figure out that I was meeting with the pastor and my friend, who were already there, and was eventually taken back to meet them. The pastor was friendly, but my friend was already in tears when I got there. I have been at this place in my life...the dark hole, the pit, the quicksand of life. I try to avoid being there again, at almost any expense, and it's equally difficult for me to walk the path with someone else, knowing my own tendency to fall into repeated patterns of depression and anxiety that have plagued me for years. It's just as easy to relapse when you're surrounded by other people in that stage in life.

I listen to my friend talk, and my heart hurts for her. I can feel my emotions welling up, as she finishes sharing with the pastor. He starts talking to her about our perception of God's "hate" for things, and how our English minds want to use this term literally, even though scriptural uses of the word translate as "prefers less". God hates divorce. God hated Esau. Etcetera. If human beings didn't do what God hated so much, there wouldn't be a Bible. There wouldn't be any need for grace. There would be any need for Jesus, or forgiveness, or any of it. But people do things God hates all the time, so we have all of the above and more to "deal with it".

He was speaking some more, and then looked right at me and said, "Do you think God wants a drunk driver to hit someone? I know a little something about that."

It was at this point that I remember my friend had met with him once before, and either he or his wife had been directly affected by a drunk driving accident, and I remember she relayed my story to him. He already knew who I was, before I even got there today.

I could feel the tears start to cloud my eyes as he continued. He spoke of grace, forgiveness, and love that should be shown to a flawed human being who had hurt my friend; a person who has a free will to choose right or wrong. I couldn't help but think of my own circumstances at the same time. I'm now covered in tears, choking back sobs, and holding it in, listening to them both talk.

I had to leave the meeting early to go to work, never speaking a word the whole time I was there. I wasn't even out of the office building before I was crying more than I ever do in public, hoping to find my car quickly to avoid any personal confrontation. I hate crying. I hate crying in front of people even more. Only recently did I accept crying as something I should just let happen, and not try fighting all the time. However, crying in front of people is another story. I can almost appear stoic sometimes, and will wait until I'm along before I let it all out. Today was no different. I sat in my car and started driving, but then couldn't move.

Tears.

All emotions, stress, burdens, and weight of the last couple of months, pouring out on the steering wheel in a mess of tears and mascara. I couldn't stop. It was all coming out. I was sobbing, crying more tears than I have in months. "Why, God?" "Why this?" "Why these people...again...still?" "What am I supposed to do with all of this?" "What are you doing here?" "I'm so hurt...so...broken." "God, please..."

I had to leave at this point, because I had to go to work. Although, I did contemplate taking a mental health day, or even a mental health few hours. It would certainly have been justified.

I had no time to go home and eat, and had only brought enough food for my dinner at work, so I stopped at the local Chick-fil-A to grab a grilled chicken sandwich. I'm still crying...the whole way there. I pull in the parking lot and decide now would be a great time to shut off the waterworks, because I'm going to have to face another human being. However, after I order my food with whimpered voice, I am still sopping up tears from my now entirely red face. My eyes so fiercely green, it looked like I had just polished a couple of emeralds and stuck them on my face. Mascara is in places it shouldn't be, smeared around my face. I am the epitome of a "hot mess".

I pull up to the window, trying to avoid eye contact with the human being taking my money. He looks like a teenager, but I'm kind of older now, and everyone young looks like a teenager, so I really don't know for sure. I avoid his stare. I'm chanting to myself in my head, "Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together Marci!!"

He hands me back my receipt, and it's at this point I realize there is a short delay in getting my food, and he just looked at me. He crouched down in the window and looked directly at me, and said, "How's your day going today, ma'am?"

I could already barely speak, still trying to avoid looking at him, and I was hanging on by a thread, but then he had to go and ask how I was. I could tell he saw my face, as his face turned from happily questioning my day, to realizing that I wasn't having a good one. I don't remember what I said, but I remember blurting out my broken words amongst intermittent gasps of air, while I tried to hold back the tears that were now flowing freely again. It went something like, "Oh...I'm...okay. I've had better...days...but...thank you...for asking."

The exchange that followed can only be described as one of the most compassionate 60-second conversation I've ever had with a stranger.

"I'm so sorry to hear that ma'am." I remember seeing his face looking back at me with so much compassion. You know how you can just tell when someone is hurting for you? I mean, this kid didn't know me. He had absolutely no idea what I've been and am dealing with. No clue. But his face turned sad, looking right at me, and almost in a soft whisper he asked, "Are you okay?"

Again, amidst my sobbing and that weird gasping for air thing that happens when you're really sobbing, I reply back, "I'm...okay. I'm just...having a...really...rough day."

He turned around to get my food, and what I thought for sure would be a request to have a manager come to the window. I mean, seriously. If I were him, I would have been like, "Yo! There's some chick balling at my window. Help!" But he didn't. Instead, he handed my food to me, and looked at me again and said gently, "I really hope the rest of your day gets better, ma'am."

I'm sure I thanked him at this point, though I can't really remember. I was more concerned about vacating this awful, embarrassing situation. As I pulled away I thought to myself, "omg, they're going to be talking about this all day." Not my finest moment, and it certainly ranks up there with my most embarrassing moments of all time...or at least my most awkward ones.

I cried the rest of the way to work. I cried walking into work. I walked my red-faced, blood shot, emerald eyed self into work, collected myself in the bathroom, and almost managed to make it to my emails without crying again, until my boss asked if I was okay. Some things just can't be hidden. Either I came down with the flu and pink eye overnight, or there was something wrong. Chicks know. I'm thankful for my understanding, compassionate boss...and free kleenex.

I had no idea that in being there to support my friend at her counseling appointment this morning, I would be "asked" to face my own hurts. I should have known better. The message of this counselor was directed towards my friend, and while completely applicable to her life, I know full well that was something God intended for me to hear as well.

There is no name on my receipt from Chick-fil-A. So to the sweet, caring and compassionate, Africa-American teenager working the drive-thru window at the Crossroads Towne Center location in Gilbert, at about 2:30pm yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon, I would like to offer a most sincere thank you...for caring about a person who just happened to cross your path today. Thank you for doing the uncomfortable, yet loving thing in genuinely showing concern and care for a completely stranger who was hurting. You most certainly didn't have to. It meant more than you know, and I would like to think that if God gave you that much compassion in your heart, that he has amazing things planned for it in the future.

God really is quite the master weaver.
Tomorrow is another day. A new day. And I'm still practicing...