Good News for People Like Us

So last night I was waiting tables, oddly enough, and a couple sat down at in friend's section. He was planning on leaving, so he asked if I would pick them up for him. I am usually averse to this exercise because when an experienced waiter passes off a table that usually means that the upcoming experience will not be spectacular. Following the old adage, 'beggars can't be choosers', I went ahead and took the table.
Well, as I approached the table, the stare that I began to encounter caused me to curse my beggar status for a moment or two. It was obvious in a moment that there was nobody on the face of the earth that could possibly please this couple. Being a dutiful waiter, however, I gave it the old 'college try'. No dice.
Something happens to a certain type of person when they have to wait for a minute longer than they had anticipated. They become inconsolable in a prideful sort of way. First he asked for cocktail sauce for the oysters. Our blessed chef does not allow cocktail sauce to be made, so I offered to make my guest some horseradish sauce (which is also anathema, but I'm a rebel). No dice. He asked if we had ketchup. Again, our beloved chef does not keep heinz on hand; we do have a spiced ketchup downstairs- I offered to fetch some for him. No dice.
When he asked how the tomato soup was, I responded truthfully that I don't like tomatoes, but our chef does a terrific job, so I'm sure it is great. Our aforementioned guest asked for a sample. I gladly brought him a taste, to which he turned up his nose, 'its ok, it tastes like tomatoes'. That's when I started to get annoyed. What did you expect it to taste like? It's TOMATO SOUP!!! Hey, I've been disregarded by people in much higher social positions than this dude. Mayors have looked down on me. Councilmen have been unhappy with my service. Somehow the honor of being ran around by this guy escaped me.
Well, needless to say, they were passive-aggressively upset with everything that happened. The dessert options didn't sound good at all (and I can sell a dessert, Jack!). So they paid out and went on their not-so-merry way. In their haste to leave my company, the young lady left her iphone.
I do have to say that a couple of unhelpful things ran through my mind when I remembered what my life is about. My life is about love for the enemy. My life is about accepting love from the God whom I made my enemy. My life is about loving my enemies like God loves his enemies. I think that at least means walking downstairs and across the street to deliver a forgotten device.
When I had crossed the street and delivered her iphone, for the first time in the evening, they were grateful. The man who had been my sworn enemy even shook my hand. I remembered the fact that, when I had done much more to God than passive-aggressively disregarding him, he did much more for me than delivering an iphone.
I always choose my own path. Along with everyone else, I decide that my own plan was superior to the Maker's design. I run far from my Father like the prodigal son. He doesn't hold it against me when I come back broken and dirty again and again. He has been waiting for me because of his extraordinary, supernatural love. He embraces me and kisses me repeatedly because He is so happy to have me home again.
Let people disregard me, I will love them. Let people think little of me, my Father loves me. That's really good news for people like us.