After working all day, we all look forward to closing time, the time when
the lights are shut off, computers put to bed, and the doors locked. Hourly
guys like I was were always looking at the clock, sometimes counting the minutes
until closing, the magic words heard sometimes, “go ahead, take off early,” as
if the few extra minutes we were gone added up to much. But we were free when
we should be some place else, maybe just a mind game, but one that worked, and
still works. But as I grew in employment, salaried and commissioned, the clock
became less important, as I was paid to do a job, not for the time spent at the
job or how long it took to complete it. And my viewpoint changed....still can’t
tell if it got better or worse.
Many times after closing, the precious few minutes left alone in the store
were a respite from the day, no phones, people, employees, or customers. A time
not to hurry, but to cruise the shop once more, then head out and home. Only a
few minutes, but the time wasn’t important, the time spent was. But one day
will stick out after 40+ years, of when I was selling motorcycles. And how I
was in a hurry, misjudged a man, and the lesson learned. A man came into the
shop many times, looking at a used CB 750 Honda, a 1972 like the one BH had. It
sat for months, the only miles accumulated from pushing it in and out everyday.
But this cowboy kept coming by and sitting on it, never saying much after asking
the price. A few minutes here and there over the weeks, then disappear again.
I was the one he looked for when coming in, and we had labeled him a “lookie
loo” or “clock waster,” he never bought. So one late afternoon when he showed
up at closing, we had just locked the doors and the weekend was about to begin,
he showed up. Through the locked glass door I told him “we’re closed, come back
tomorrow,” pointing at the hours open sign. But he just stood there, then
knocked, and again I told him “we’re closed.” Then he reached into his back
pocket, pulled out an envelope, opened it up, showed me the money and said “I
want to buy the Honda.” I looked over my shoulder and saw David my boss, who
motioned, “let him in.” And we did the deal. With a new helmet, 15 minutes
spent in the back lot showing him how to ride it, turned out it was his first
bike, and he left happy, I felt confident he could ride OK, and I earned a few
extra dollars commission. Supper was late, and super sized that night if I
remember correctly. I would only see this man once again, a few days later he
stopped by to thank me, this had been a big decision for him, and after he had
shopped many dealers, I was the only one who continually waited on him, and
respected him. If only he knew the names we had called him....but I had made a
customer and friend. Five minutes after closing....
There are three things in life that are a given, you must screw up to get
mercy, you cannot brag about how humble you are, and you cannot have patience
right now. It like salvation takes time, and we often give up on those that
don’t quickly accept the invite of Jesus right away. Like the big churches with
multiple services, we don’t want to or cannot spend the time right now, the next
service is about to begin. Fortunately Jesus sees things differently, think of
how many years he was patient for you. Scripture even advises us “God is
patient that none should perish,” yet we have time constraints on how long your
salvation time line is with us. I have given up trying to figure out who is
saved and who isn’t, too many play the game better than those of us who truly
believe. They sing the songs, study the studies, go on the trips. The frequent
the bookstore, even have a bumper sticker of Jesus. But never have made the
commitment. The story Pastor Pat tells reminds me how we just don’t know. A
man came up to him after church one Sunday and told him he just got saved. Pat
was astonished, as the man had filled a pew for over 15 years, he had no reason
to believe he wasn’t. But the spirit had convicted him, and he gave his heart
to Jesus. Not a religious exercise, but truly saved. All the years may have
not meant anything until the spirit made Jesus real to him. He was like the man
finally deciding to buy, after hours, and when he was ready, found the door
closed, but kept knocking. He wanted in, and Jesus let him in. His reward was
salvation, my customer just got a bike. I learned a lesson. And drew closer to
God through it.
Today I count a man known as Rebel as a friend. When I first started
ministering, he was mean, nasty, argumentative, and those were his good
qualities. He was often told to leave the service as he was disruptive, but God
put him on my heart. so the first thing I did when I arrived was go to him and
listen. No one else did and I was determined to be his friend. Slowly over
they years the spirit changed his heart, and today he is first out on Tuesday
nights for our study. He quietly listens and acknowledges when I talk with
him. We have become friends, not because of what I did, but because of what the
spirit did in both our hearts. The question Jesus asked his sleeping disciples
means much to me, “could you have stayed awake just one more hour?” Just a
few minutes after closing? I know what it means to me, what does it mean to
you? Jesus never hurried....how many Rebels have you stepped over today like
the rich man stepped over Lazarus? Today is the day of salvation.....are you
still open to it? Those who ask questions do so because of interest. So I’ll
leave you with one, it’s five minutes after church, and a man wants to know
about Jesus. He’s hungry and poor, will you invite him to lunch, or tell him to
come back? We were all that man once....sadly some still are. That one in 99
may be five minutes late......Jesus waited. For you. Will you wait for
him?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com
