Sunday, April 26, 2009

Garage Sales...

A garage sale is a great way to observe people. It's humanity in microcosm. First, you have the early risers. They're the ones who greet you as you open the garage door. They eagerly move past you to get a first look, even while you're struggling to set everything up. I had not even put out the neighborhood signs yesterday when the first two people showed up. It reminded me of a sale years ago. It was on our open carport, and first thing that morning my dad discovered a lady digging through the items in the dark.

Then there are the flea marketers. These are professional shoppers. They go from sale to sale, looking for items they can resell at their flea market booths. They are shrewd buyers with a quick eye, wasting no time with things most people examine. They usually go for the glass items. Figurines and salt and pepper shakers for example. My sister unloaded a large number of items right away, and I'm convinced she could have made more money. But she was just happy to get rid of them all.

Next are the compulsive shoppers. They have the "child in a candy store" mentality. They hardly slow down as they move through the tables, randomly grabbing items and exclaiming such things as, "That will look great on my couch!" In mere seconds they are at the money table with an armload of items and ask, "Can I leave these here for a minute?" They don't need any of this junk, and I know I'm contributing to problem, but frankly, I don't care. Better for them to have this stuff than me.

Also shopping are the critics. They are the ones who bring you an item and begin telling you what is wrong with it. They will argue with you and tear down the value of your merchandise all in an effort to get a better deal. They want something for nothing and will insult you if they don't get it. I rarely bargain with them.

You have the conversationalist shopper. He likes people, and my garage sale is just an excuse to get out and talk to someone. I had some good conversations this weekend. My dad would love it. He lives for conversations with strangers. He can talk for an hour with someone he just met, and if someone picked up one of his items, he's prepared to relate its entire history.

You also have the drive-by shoppers. I wave at them, but they don't usually wave back. They are busy concentrating as they scan my merchandise for just that sought for item.

And then there are the children. Precious creatures who pick up interesting things and say, "Mommy, I want this!" to which I reply, "I'll make you a deal on that." I decided a long time ago that it's not my job to teach them respect or self-control. My job is to move the stuff out. So what if I contribute a little to their delinquency. OK, I'm only joking.

This morning, the second sale day, I had a few minutes after the initial rush to sit with nothing to do. Having pulled my office chair outside, I enjoyed the cool breeze as it blew through the Kwanzan Cherry tree which shades the front porch. Recently fallen blossoms covered the ground and gave the appearance of pink snow. The azaleas, blooming coral red waved cheerfully at me. It was an unexpected gift...a precious peaceful moment. I know now that God was preparing me for an interesting day.

All the personalities I've described were present today. In addition to them, I was visited by some even more interesting characters. They were a young couple. They came in and excitedly began looking at various trinkets. I was explaining something to the young lady and noticed something peculiar. As she was speaking, I thought, "She's thin, but her muscle tone is good." Then, looking at her face, I thought "Does she need to shav...?" That's when it hit me. "This is no lady," I thought.

What I had failed to see before became clear. But, I was happy that I had treated them with respect and normalcy instead of with the revulsion I now felt. Perhaps God kept my from seeing at first for that reason. We continued on and they purchased some items. As they left, I was seated again and looked up just before one of them looked back at me. I waved, but he thought I had been staring, and happily said so to the other one. It's a shame people will do such things for attention.

In a totally opposite situation, an older couple came through and saw the table and chairs for sale. It belonged to my sisters. When they moved out to an apartment together a number of years ago, they bought the unfinished set and stained and finished it themselves. Carol has been keeping them and put some new pillows on the seats, but it was time to let go. The couple spoke of a family member who had suffered some setbacks, both medical and financial. This set would be perfect for her, so they called and she came.

As the lady sat studying the table, she asked, "What's your bottom price?" We were asking $95, so I thought for a moment and said, "$80." I was prepared to be bargained down a bit, but without hesitation, she reached into her pocket and brought out a group of bills folded together. I looked, and it was four $20 bills. Later, the first lady told me that they were prepared to help with any extra cost, because $80 was all she had. I've said before I don't believe in coincidence. This was God's confirmation. He was showing His presence and work in both our lives.

Later in the day, it began to get hot. I was grateful for the shade but was still baking while talking to people. One lady, who obviously spent the day in the car looking for sales, picked up a pitcher and said, "If I buy this, will you put cold water in it?" Smiling, I gave it back to her with ice water and 2 cups for her and her friend.

Finally, as I was just about to begin closing up, a lady showed up and immediately began talking as she walked into the drive. She told me how, 4 years ago, she lost her daughter in a car accident. She related how angry she was that the driver had survived unhurt but that her daughter had been killed. She told of her other daughter and the bad decisions she had made. She went on with the consequences of those decisions. I spoke little and listened much. I thought it was her way of coping, reciting her litany of woes to every stranger she meets. Perhaps she does, but something in me said, "Listen." So I listened and encouraged...

When it was obviously time for me to respond, I shared how our lives are filled with pain, not necessarily because of God's displeasure, but definitely because of the fallen state of this world. She admitted that she had been angry at God, but had come to understand that she can be hopeful, too. I asked if she knew Jesus Christ as her personal Savior. She said she did and that He was her only strength. As she was turning to leave, I asked if I could pray with her. There in my driveway amid tables of merchandise we prayed together.

I prayed for her grief and for her living daughter. I prayed that God would comfort her in her loss. I prayed that He would show her a glimpse of our future...a future that will cause us to look back with amazement at how quickly this life and it's pain really passes.

When we finished she told me I had made her day. Little did she know that God had used her to make mine. Throughout the day He showed me examples of His desire for my life. He showed me what he wants me to be and do. He showed me He works even in Garage Sales. I am grateful for the exposure to the people He loves. He reminded me that I am His ambassador. Treating them with love rather than contempt, patience rather than haste, generosity rather than greed, compassion rather than annoyance.

I am reminded of His instruction:

Philippians 2:5 Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus

And of the benefit:

Acts 4:13 When they observed the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed and knew that they had been with Jesus.

I want people to know I've been with my Master.

1 comment:

Susan said...

We had a great time at the yard sale! I'm the sister with the animals and salt/pepper shakers.

Never judge someone. You don't know where they've been.

No one can walk in another person's shoes.