The gas station man
After a recent breakup from a relation that my partner didn’t even realize they were apart of left me sad and vulnerable. I was seeking to fill a void of time and space. I had already been reintroduced to cigarettes and Black & Milds, vodka on the weekends and now I wanted more. Truly, I wanted a real love but that could not be purchased off this rack as I stood at the counter of the gas station. To my surprise was at least 15 different types of fake or imposturic weed products. You know that natural herb being smoked by young and old. That herb-that is, sending our boys and girls to prison every day. You know….that weed. And now, I could buy the replica at the gas station. Oh my gosh! My first thought: its legal, I can try it! I read over each package, looking for a catchy name and looking for what would sooth my ailment of inferiority and loneliness.
I had it narrowed down between the gold pack and the green one. But the God that dwells in my soul kept questioning me. But how often is it that we ignore the still small voice inside of us? Too often. The humanist that I am gets in the way wanting to believe things that are only tangible and real. But let me tell you God has a way of making all things real. I asked the service attendant, “should I get this?” He looked at me as if he knew me and clearly and without hesitation said “no.” This man just loss a $9 profit or however much, but God used this man to remind me that I am better than a $9 fix and that I will recover from a loss that was only meant to be a lesson. God is real. I am real, God promised to always be present. I learned my lesson at the gas station, God keeps God’s word.