A friend of mine works in a convenience store. He puts up with a lot of verbal abuse. Store policy is to not “lay hands” on a customer, no matter how abusive they become. This is hard for him. I was taught that “sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.” I have news for whoever coined that line. Words can and do hurt. They hurt our pride.
In this friend’s case, he had to figure when to draw the line and how to handle this fellow. Meanwhile, all the other customers had to put up with hearing his language and his tantrum. Fortunately, it was pretty obvious that he’d had a few drinks. Because he’d just purchased gas, it was obvious that he was drinking and driving. That gave my friend his “out.” He told the fellow he would confiscate his keys and call the police if he didn’t leave. Store policy is that he is allowed to refuse service to anyone, so that helped. The man left, a string of curses and foul language in his wake.
Problem is this: in cases like this, how do we find the time to pray for guidance and help? We must keep our eyes on some situations to such a degree that it’s almost impossible to find a moment to ask for God’s help. Still, that’s the only help we can truly rely on. Perhaps it’s a matter of training ourselves to think before we speak. If others are used to a split second of silence before we speak, we have that moment we need.
Please, Dear God, teach me to think a moment before I act in stressful situations.
2 comments:
We seem to always be on the same path, even though we post at different times. I suppose that means that we were destined to meet?
Being that I have four children under the age of 9, I know what it's like to have to hold my tongue. For a while I just let my emotions take over and now I realize that I don't talk like that to strangers, why oh why would I talk like that to the most precious things in my life?
It's beens an eye opener for me. Bev, I love how you seem to be on the same subject as me but you have a different take (somewhat) because your in a different stage of life.
I have often given myself a stern talk about how I sometimes treat loved ones in a less civil manner than I treated co-workers or even strangers in a store. I'm glad I'm not the only one who worries about that. I'm glad, too, that we care enough to want to change it, even if just a little at a time.
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