Standing in a tiny gas station for forty-five minutes is actually more interesting than you might think. It's not something people often have the opportunity to do without being given some extremely odd looks, unless you happen to be an employee. Which I'm not, but when you're helplessly waiting for your brother to change a flat tire, it's a pretty good reason to stand in a tiny gas station for an extended period of time.
I can't say I particularly wanted to be standing in that gas station, and Sunday afternoon isn't an extremely busy time of the week. All the same, it's interesting to see the people who come in and why they do. In the minute or so I saw them, I got a tiny glimpse into their lives. I'd wonder where they'd been this morning or yesterday afternoon, what brought them out into this wind-blown snowy weather, what they might be thinking about these two girls standing in a gas station. Some of them seemed familiar with the lone employee working and made friendly small talk as she rang up their usual purchases.
I felt a little out of place in that gas station, standing there watching the progress on the car as the people came in and out. Somehow, though, all these people and I are the same. We're all human beings, made in the image of God. Our paths crossed for maybe a minute, and odds are they won't cross again. If they do, we probably won't even know it.
Yet I have to wonder: what made me feel out of place? Why is it so hard for us to realize at times that no matter where our paths start or lead, we are all people made in God's image, woven together by our common humanity?
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