Sometimes, I just need a bag of gummy bears to put me in my place.
It was the first time I was doing any significant shopping in Berlin. I was in the German version of Wal-Mart, otherwise known as Real. It was one of those shopping trips where the weight of the basket on your arm tells you it is time to leave.
After grabbing laundry detergent, kitchen essentials and 20 other “essential” items, I make my way to the checkout, hoping that this would go quickly and smoothly.
Just as I am about to put my items on the belt, a young Berliner with her mom starts talking to me.
I pick out the words, “bezahlen” (to pay for) and “Haribo” (the name for delicious German gummy bears). She holds up the bag of Haribo, and I assume she is asking me if I want to buy them.
It was the first time I was doing any significant shopping in Berlin. I was in the German version of Wal-Mart, otherwise known as Real. It was one of those shopping trips where the weight of the basket on your arm tells you it is time to leave.
After grabbing laundry detergent, kitchen essentials and 20 other “essential” items, I make my way to the checkout, hoping that this would go quickly and smoothly.
Just as I am about to put my items on the belt, a young Berliner with her mom starts talking to me.
I pick out the words, “bezahlen” (to pay for) and “Haribo” (the name for delicious German gummy bears). She holds up the bag of Haribo, and I assume she is asking me if I want to buy them.
I know that they are on sale, and I even grabbed a bag of a different variety. I don’t really need to stockpile gummy bears, so I tell her “nein” (no).
She looks at me with slight disbelief. “Nein?” she says back to me.
I shrug and start to put my items on the belt. I even toss a bag of Brussels sprouts over the gummies I was buying, lest she see them and take offense that I didn’t want her gummy bears.
Then I put the little divider down, and the girl behind me puts her bears on the belt. It is then that I understand…that I definitely misunderstood!
She was asking if she could go ahead of me because she was only buying gummy bears, not because she was trying to pawn them off on me. No wonder she seemed a bit shocked.
Here I was, looking like I might be a normal, polite Berliner, and then I won’t even let the girl with her mom pass in front of me to buy a single bag of candy. I must have looked like quite a jerk.
I rush out of the store, now very embarrassed, but not even knowing how to redeem myself. My German vocabulary won’t allow me to find the girl and tell her that I was sorry for being rude.
Then it dawned on me. That was grace. Neither the girl nor her mom glared at me. They didn’t say a single unkind word or start talking to the other customers or cashier about my faux pas.
I’m sure they were slightly annoyed (or very annoyed) to have to wait. But they didn’t say anything. They didn’t treat me as my actions deserved.
My goof became grace.
I never want grace because it means that I have to be undeserving. It means I have to screw up. And that’s not very comfortable.
I want to deserve what I receive. I want to be good enough. I’m not.
Living on this earth, I have learned not to expect this undeserved kindness from other humans. When I do, though, it is a reminder of the divine grace – the grace that is essential to my faith in Jesus Christ.
To the gummy-bear girl: Thanks for the grace memo. I hope that next time I won’t be that person in front of you in the checkout line.
She looks at me with slight disbelief. “Nein?” she says back to me.
I shrug and start to put my items on the belt. I even toss a bag of Brussels sprouts over the gummies I was buying, lest she see them and take offense that I didn’t want her gummy bears.
Then I put the little divider down, and the girl behind me puts her bears on the belt. It is then that I understand…that I definitely misunderstood!
She was asking if she could go ahead of me because she was only buying gummy bears, not because she was trying to pawn them off on me. No wonder she seemed a bit shocked.
Here I was, looking like I might be a normal, polite Berliner, and then I won’t even let the girl with her mom pass in front of me to buy a single bag of candy. I must have looked like quite a jerk.
I rush out of the store, now very embarrassed, but not even knowing how to redeem myself. My German vocabulary won’t allow me to find the girl and tell her that I was sorry for being rude.
Then it dawned on me. That was grace. Neither the girl nor her mom glared at me. They didn’t say a single unkind word or start talking to the other customers or cashier about my faux pas.
I’m sure they were slightly annoyed (or very annoyed) to have to wait. But they didn’t say anything. They didn’t treat me as my actions deserved.
My goof became grace.
I never want grace because it means that I have to be undeserving. It means I have to screw up. And that’s not very comfortable.
I want to deserve what I receive. I want to be good enough. I’m not.
Living on this earth, I have learned not to expect this undeserved kindness from other humans. When I do, though, it is a reminder of the divine grace – the grace that is essential to my faith in Jesus Christ.
To the gummy-bear girl: Thanks for the grace memo. I hope that next time I won’t be that person in front of you in the checkout line.
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