a quest for coconut flakes

For several weeks my wife had been plannin' to attend a church function, but our weekly shoppin' trip was interferin'.

Since both activities were scheduled for the same day, I thought I'd help her out and even saw my good deed as layin' a little ground work for an extended fishin' trip. 

Off to the the grocery store I went, armed with her list of necessities, thinkin' all the time,...'this shoppin' thing can't be that hard.' 

Little did I know I was about to find myself walkin' through the "valley of the shadow of death".

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My adventure started by trying to find a decent parkin' spot. 

This is something that just ain't gonna' be found, on a Saturday, at one of these metro shoppin' centers. That is, unless you want to nestle up next to someone who drives a car that looks like they finished in FIRST PLACE at the Friday night demolition derby. Not me! So, I parked as far as I could from everyone else and bummed a ride to the front door. 

The next task was to actually try and get into the store. I was tryin' to maximize every move, slip here-slide there, dodgin' all obstacles like a pro football runnin' back. My, get in-get out, attack plan was workin' pretty good, that is, until I came across the world's slowest movin' person. No matter how hard I tried to pass, his weavin'' and bobbin' walk kept me hemmed in better than a NASCAR driver.

Finally, I made it to the buggy barn, grabbed one of the four wheeled nightmares and tried to free it from its tangled position in line. Nobody told me that shoppin' carts magically weld together while they're waitin' on customers. I grabbed onto a set of Siamese twin carts and snatched on those things 'til I was half way down the produce isle, about to round the banana stand. 

Once freed, I wiped the sweat from my forehead, pulled the shoppin' list from my pocket and began my hunt in the lost forest. That's when I realized my wife had written down her items in some unknown, foreign, super-market language, that only other dedicated shoppers could decipher. Dazed and confused I read, 'WW Ritzs.' 

What the puddin' is WW Ritzs?!!

Frustrated, I began to search isle to isle, looking for the WW shelf. I figured everyone knew I was a rookie shopper by the way I mumbled out loud and continued to fight with a buggy that had a mind of it's own. 

Not only was this wire cage critter demonically possessed, but one of it's wheels had a flat spot and another was about to throw a bearing. The thing needed an exorcism and a reporting to the State Department of Transportation as an unsafe vehicle. 

I found a lady, who evidently had a college degree in translating shoppin' lists, and asked her if she could tell me where I could find the WW isle? She looked at my list and told me it was two more isles over. 

Let me tell ya', it's a comforting thing to run into folks that have a higher education when your grocery shoppin'. Found em - Whole Wheat Ritz Crackers! One item down and only thirty-four more to go. 

I thought I'd cry.

Next...coconut flakes. What tha? What are coconut flakes?! 

I know what coconut is. I even know what shredded coconut is...but what's coconut flakes? Does coconut have flakes? Is it stuff that falls off coconuts? What is it and where IS it? 

I found one of the store workers and politely asked, 'Could you tell me where your coconut flakes are?'

With a face that looked like they'd just sucked on a lemon and an attitude that match, they snipped, 'Next isle!' 

'If I jerked `em up by their embroidered 'Have a Nice Day' patch and shoved their smiley face button up their nose, they'd be a lot more friendly,' I thought. But, I didn't - bein' a Christian and all.

I finally found everything, paid my bill and got outa' there, swearin' all the way home I'd never do that again. 

Then I got to thinkin', I wonder how folks evaluate their first time experience of attending our church. Was it pleasant, fullfillin' and were they received warmly, or were they avoided, unapproached and left to fend on their own? 

Was the Gospel preached and did church members reflect the love of Christ, or was the main theme of service directed at somethin' non relevant? 

As Christians, we want to give the impression of being a loving and caring group, founded on the belief in, and teachings of Jesus Christ. So, is that what we do, or do we leave people to experience and survive on their own?

We could go on for days talkin' about ways to insure that folks receive the best treatment possible, in or out of church, and probably never develop a scripted guideline. We could talk about church parking, paddin' on the pews, nursery care, available youth activities, greeter responsibilities, public conduct, social involvement, and on, and on....and on. 

The list is never endin'! 

And folks are different, too! What works for one, may not work for another! An action deciphered as a deliberate and dedicated investment into that person's life, may be seen by another as intrusive and smotherin'. 

What to do?

The answer is simple. Love `em. Love `em like Jesus would. 

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins." -  (1 Peter 4:8) 

That part about 'sins' tells me when I mess up, people are more forgiving when they know the act committed was not done with intentional malice, but rather a genuine concern and carin' attitude...in love. 

Ya' see, if I had felt that just ONE person sincerely cared about me during my shoppin' dilemma, things would have turned out differently. 

I could live with the parkin' issues, defective buggies, bein' lost and bouncin' from isle to isle...if I had only met that one person. 

I'm just a redneck country boy who knows I can't make things right, for everyone, all the time...ONLY Jesus can do that. 

All I need to do is sincerely love and care about folks and remain steadfast on the path that Christ has set me. That way, as we say down south...it'll all come out in the wash.

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CrossRiver speaker Roy Roper grew up in Alabama and while he no longer lives there, he's living proof that while you may be able to take the boy out of the south, you definitely can't take the south out of the boy. This former high patrolman, turned district judge has been married to his wife, Linda for 43 years. He has two grown children, five grandkids and a rather stubborn bulldog named BAMA. He loves hunting and to say he likes fishin' is a bit of an understatement. When he's not teaching outdoor sport enthusiasts about the beauty of lures, rods and reels, he sharing his faith with them. To enjoy more of his humorous insight into scripture, visit him on Facebook at facebook.com/southernviewministries or on his blog at a-southern-view.blogspot.com