Raspberry Beret & Handicap Parking

I have a feeling that today is going to be a strange, random day.

As I sit here in the coffee shop, getting ready to finish up the small group study that I am writing for our discipleship ministry at South, the song Raspberry Beret is playing on the radio. Now, know that such a song has no significance for my life, other than the fact that it came from 1985--the year of 8th grade. Rather, I find it odd that a song over 20 years old is beaming over the radio station and invading my "second office" here at Il Bacio Cafe. I certainly don't need "She wore a raspberry beret" running constantly through my head all day, like it is at the moment.

My mind is already challenged today. I have been up and moving since 6:00am, though I really only now feel a little awake after a nice strong cup of Jamacian Me Crazy. Even when my mind has been awake and moving, it has struggled to stay focused and on the right path. I have been easily distracted.

For example, as I sit here, singing "she wore a raspberry beret" in my head, a man pulls into the handicap spot outside of the coffee shop. I sit in side and watch, to see if he is really handicapped or not. He hops out of his minivan and strolls in to buy his morning "red eye" (a triple espresso laced with coffee, I think), full of coolness and hip. He's certainly not handicapped. As he opens the door, I want to ask him a simple question: "Dude, do you find it hard to park two spaces over in the EMPTY parking lot and actually follow the rule of not parking in a handicap parking spot since you are not handicapped?" People like that make me want to scream. From there, my mind jumps to Carlos Mencia. I sit and run through things he would say to this guy. They aren't nice. Funny, but not nice. I won't repeat them.

Now I'm distracted by the trio of old people sitting a couple of tables away discussing property, retirement, vacations, and money at hearing aid volumes as Shania Twain beams, "we will be together always," across the messed up radio station they have playing here. Oh look, another non-handicapped handicap space parking person.

On days like today, when it's really hard to focus and not curse at people, I find hope in the fact that for some reason God loves each of these people with everything he has. He weeps for them some times, especially when they park where they are not supposed to. He hurts for those too full of themselves, like Prince, to understand that they are simple, created beings in the shadow of the Creator. It is easy to wonder why he loves them so, to struggle with the shear ridiculousness of such love. But, then, I realize that I am no better than them. While I don't park in handicap spaces, I struggle with the same darkness that others wallow in.

I think our biggest challenge as God's people is to see and love others as God sees and loves them. This is a scary and difficult thing to do. To see others through the eyes of God, we need to see ourselves through the eyes of God. We have to admit that we are spiritually bankrupt and empty without him. Yet, as we get better at that and realize our need to bask continually in God's grace and love, our anger and rage for people will fade away. Our eyes will be open and our hearts will hurt and love just as God's does, for ourselves, and for those around us--discussing the Oprah book of the month.