Pens

I have pens. A lot of pens. People laugh at my plethora of pens. If someone would give me a penny for how many pens I have used/owned in my lifetime as a server, I could perhaps buy something large and expensive - maybe nice patio furniture. My life revolves around pens. Part of the reason I go through so many pens is not because they stop working. No, not at all. In fact, I rarely see a pen to the end of its existence. Why, might you ask? Well, because people STEAL them. Hmm, steal is a harsh word. “Forget and take” is perhaps a better phrase. [Unless you’re that table that stiffed me four months ago and walked back to the table just to take my pen. You know who you are. I have forgiven you, but I have not forgotten you.]

Last Christmas, knowing my tight budget has little room for pen-buying, my mother ordered one hundred shiny metallic blue pens for my use. Best Christmas present ever. Well, that and the toilet paper I constantly take. Thanks, ‘rents. J Now, these aren’t ordinary pens. These pens have my name on them – my name AND four of my favorite biblical scripture passages. “Thou shalt not steal” is the first… ha, just kidding. That’d be funny though. This Christmas I will be asking ‘Santa’ for more pens, because everyone in my restaurant has at least one of them. I SEE them, sticking out from their pockets! They snag them from my apron, they pick them up from my tables, or I have gifted them with one at some opportune time. Just the other day the bartender said to me, “I use your pen when I’m studying at home and it died on me the other day.” Hence, she was graced with a new pen. I had a table [not mine, mind you] pull me aside the other day and say, “We’ve heard about you. Are you the girl with the pens?” Hence, they also received a pen. It’s comical, really. I mean, these are GOOD pens! They write awesome!

A few months ago this sheriff from a neighboring county came in to eat. He gave me his credit card and I returned it with his slip and, of course, one of my pens. He then proceeded to show me his business card. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, it said on the back. We traded. He took my pen. I took his card. And in some weird way I felt more connected to a greater purpose – like we are all in some way trying to make the world better in any way we can.

Long ago there was this random woman on Oprah. I don’t remember what she did or why she was there, but I do remember that she said this: “We never touch people so lightly that we do not leave a trace.” How about that? We all leave our mark. We all have “pens” and “business cards” - yours just might be in the form of a smile, an attitude, a joke, a particular kindness or perhaps the opposite of kindness… We all have these things called fingerprints and we really do leave them wherever we go – physically, and in other ways that we will never see.

Sometimes I wonder if that table – the one that stiffed me and then rubbed it in by taking my pen – really considered how much they would affect me. Probably not, since I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a ‘person’ to them but rather a useful tool for their food consumption needs. I sound bitter about this table, but I’m really not. As a server, you can’t let that stuff get to you. If you don’t laugh about it then it very easily spreads and you begin to hate the human race. I don’t hate the human race, but I do think that the human race [me included] so easily forgets that all of our actions – good and bad – influence somebody. Your attitude on the phone with that customer service representative is going to have an affect on them – maybe they’ll be able to shrug it off by lunchtime or maybe they’ll take a bit of it home to their spouse, to their kids, and/or simply internalize it for awhile. The way you treat your neighbor, the mailman [or mailwoman], and that 16 year old cashier at Arby’s leaves a trace. It’s not her fault they put onions on your sandwich when you asked for none.. or… maybe it IS her fault. Either way, she’s a human being created in the image of God and they are just onions. Pick your battles.

What do your pens look like? What would your business card say? We all leave a trace - good or bad. Every positive and negative and slanderous and joyful and critical and hopeful thing that we say and do is a seed, influencing someone in our lives – your kids, your spouse, a friend, a coworker, a complete stranger or maybe just yourself. If you could only see your fingerprints.

May we plant seeds of joy, encouragement, and hope - rather than criticism, despair, negativity, and slander. May we be aware of our words and our actions. May we realize that leaving a trace of kindness and love is usually far more important than making our point and getting our way – and may our attitudes and the way we live our lives remind others of something, er someone, greater than themselves. Like Jesus said, “When you see me you see the Father”. When you see me, and when I see you, may we be reminded of the ultimate fingerprint God left on the world long, long ago.