Coupons and Caste

Since I was pretty sure my adventures were over, I was planning a final blog flashing back to an adventure on Friday, which reminded me of an important truth about God’s will for my life.

And I still want to tell you about that… I just wasn’t expecting to do it from a luxurious king-sized bed on the sixth floor of a downtown Buffalo high rise. 

Fairly early this morning I decided that I would not attempt the entire 14 hour drive home in one day. Looking through my trusty hotel coupon book, I found one for a hotel in Buffalo, which would be a good distance toward home. 

“Do you honor this coupon?” I asked the lady behind the desk when I arrived at 8:30, yawning. 

“Unfortunately, that’s for the downtown hotel,” she said. “It’s fifteen minutes from here. But they will honor it.”

Despite staying in a cheap hotel the previous night with hair in the sink and bad pillows, my trusty electronic pocket was running very low so I had no choice. 

But as I drove into Buffalo through the deepening darkness, my eyes shot open. What a beautiful skyline! Not as symmetrical as Hartford’s, but absolutely stunning in the dusk. And I would be spending the night in the middle of it. 

To my surprise, my coupon got me a beautiful, fully equipped suite complete with a king bedroom, a Keurig, and a separate living room. (Hurray for Jeanie for teaching me about coupons!)

It is a fitting conclusion to the meticulous care I have felt from God throughout the entire trip, in his evident going before me. I myself could never have picked a hotel I love so well. 

And this is part of what I hear God saying as I consider my future. Relax! Enjoy life, be grateful, laugh, don’t feel guilty if you have blessings. The day may come when you won’t have so many, but I will be there then, too. 

Which brings me back to the man at the church in York, Maine. It was such a beautiful building, I crept up to an open door and peered inside. An elderly man with a bad eye and a hunting cap took me around to the front door to avoid construction work. 

I took a seat and paged through a hymn book in the beautiful church. 

“It’s just a summer church,” the man said. “No heat! But there is a service right before Christmas with special heating and you should see how many people come!”

His affection for the church was evident, as was his sadness that the organ had been damaged by a leaky roof. 

“Are you the pastor?” I asked.

“Oh no,” he said, “I just look after the building.”

Just. 

Just?

Somehow, we’ve come up with a caste system that makes a pastor more important than a janitor, a surgeon more important than a nurse, a manager more important than a waitress. And there are varying levels of responsibility that change how we think of each role, of course. 

But this janitor, who lovingly showed off his church, reminded me that the caste system doesn’t count with God. Because I was convinced in a moment that the man’s life was more blessed than many more important people. 

“Can I take a picture of you?” I asked. 

“Do you want to break your camera?” He said. 

God knows where I will fit best, where you will fit best. More important than where that is, is that He wants us to do our job with a smile and a word of welcome, ever inviting others in.