Monday, August 31, 2015

Fisticuffs

It was a normal day at work, just like any other. Things were getting busy out in the restaurant, and our orders were piling up. Our screen was filled, and we were scrambling to get the food out at a reasonable pace. On this particular day, I was multi-tasking between stations. Normally, one person would stay at one place for their whole shift, but when things get crazy, it's not uncommon to hop around to help out the struggling areas. What I normally do is make "sets" that indicate how a certain order should be made, but that was covered by someone else, so I was helping out with making the wings and putting the sauces on the wings. When I returned to the sauce station (after helping out other areas) an order had been made out for us. I thought nothing of it, and made it how it was indicated. As I sent it over, I was asked by the person on the order screen if the wings were made extra crispy, as they had come in. We'll call the order person Jake (this isn't his real name; I changed it for the purposes of this retelling). I said no, a little confused. Jake, while I was away helping out elsewhere, had stated that the order was extra crispy, and that the wings need to be made as such. Now, we have ways to indicate special wing orders, (such as all drums, or extra sauce), but Jake had cut corners, and left off these indications, thinking that stating "these are extra crispy" would be enough. So I, getting frustrated (from the long ticket time on this order), had asked him why he didn't put on the extra crispy indicator.

What he said after that is not something that is repeatable.

As soon as Jake had said what he did, our "disagreement" was broken up by someone standing near by. We both resumed to our normal duties, but my heart was now heavy, and I was deeply upset with the way I had been spoken to. It took most of my strength to not break down in tears right there. And when I got home, I still couldn't let it go. I feel asleep around 4am that night, plagued with words and emotions.

The next morning, my mom read me like a book, and knew something was wrong. I told her what had happened, and immediately after she got on the phone with the manager, and recounted my story. I spoke with my manager, and she first asked me if I was okay coming in that night. When I said I was, she told me she wanted to talk to me in person. After I got there that night, she told me that she had just gotten off the phone with the GM, and told me that he'd be there tomorrow when Jake came into work, and have a talk with him. She then asked me to write down everything that had happened with pen and paper. The next day, Jake was gone. There were rumors that he had been let go because he threatened one of the managers, but I knew that if that was true, it wasn't the entire reason. 

There was a lot I learned from this, and I want to share some of that insight.

When Jake had said what he did, there was nothing I wanted to do more than punch him in the face. I had so much rage and anger from his statement that I actually wanted to start a fight with him. Taunt him back. Get under his skin with a snide remark. But God stepped in at the right time, and stopped things when he did. Later I thought of a few verses;

"Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing." - 1 Peter 3:9


If I really did antagonize him back, what good would have really come out of that? How would that be showing the love of Christ to anyone? Instead: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" - Matthew 5:43

In that moment, I realized that Jake was not the enemy, but someone in desperate need of God's love. I don't know what kind of life he lives to have said the things he did like it was nothing, but it didn't really matter. I was praying for him, no matter what he actually deserved from me.
This, my friends, is the kind of reckless love that God calls us to. Love others, unconditionally, no matter what they say or do to you. And I'll be honest: loving Jake was not a primary interest of mine. It was really, really hard to think of him in this way. Yes, I prayed for him when I got home, but it wasn't really out of love. It was more because I felt victimized, and needed answers.

But tell me this; who was really the victim that day?

In the end, it doesn't matter what someone has done with their life. How they act. What they say. What they do. Because Christ died for those who he didn't even know. He looked upon those who were mocking him, and said "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." - Luke 23:34. Allow me to reiterate this: Jesus forgave those he didn't know, and those who cursed and mocked him. And the simple fact is Jake is completely worthy of all love and grace from Christ. If Christ is not only able to forgive Jake for his actions, but die for him, then why can't I forgive him?