A barista gave me the wrong change this week, and I ended up wiping tears from my eyes.
I was in line for an overpriced coffee–something I treat myself to when the day is long or I’m incredibly bored. The barista taking my order was obviously new. She stumbled with the kiosk, and when I handed her a $20, she gave me $19 back.
I let her know she’d given me $5 too much. Embarrassed, she called her manager over to fix it. Once everything was sorted out, I handed her a dollar back and said, “Tipping is supposed to go the other way around.”
Her smile told me she understood what I was trying to say. I knew she was trying. We were okay. First days are the worst.
It was a small moment, but afterward, I kept thinking about that exchange. I know what it’s like to already feel bad about getting something wrong, knowing someone is just going to make me feel worse. To brace for the sigh, the frustration, the reminder that I should know better by now.
And I started thinking about how often God has met me in that space.
I screw up the exchange, and He stays in the moment with me. He helps me sort through the mess. And while I’m still embarrassed that I got it wrong–again–He makes sure I know I’m loved.
“Here. You screwed up. How about a tip?”
That’s what got me. How often I’ve stood there with nothing to offer but another mistake, and He’s still had kindness for me.
Look, I’m not always this patient. I’ve done my share of rants about people who can’t figure out how to make change. But as I wiped those tears away, I was reminded how much of my own life has been built on gifts I didn’t earn. Forgiveness I’ve needed. People who’ve stayed. A God whose love is still there after a mistake.
For a moment, I got to pass a little of that kindness along. And her smile helped me remember what it feels like to receive it.
Pretty cheap reminder. Even after adding in the dollar tip.
