Thursday, December 8, 2011

Miracle on Main Street, Pt. 2

Yesterday I told about two separate incidents that happened to me recently. You can read about them here, but now I would like to compare the two, to help you experience the emotion I took in, and the determinations I came to. The first incident, if you don't feel like reading, was when I found 40$ prepaid on the gas pump I pulled up to. The other incident occurred in the discovery of someone's personal pocket copy of "The Bread of Life / the gospel of John" stuck to my windshield, presumably in response to and evolutionist bumper sticker I have on my car. The point of comparison in these two events, is in the larger implications and in how they made me think. To cut to the chase, I feel as though I experienced the divine in one of these circumstances, and the miracle certainly wasn't in that gift of verse.
     No, instead I found god, so to speak, in the circumstance of finding my gas had been comped. It became apparent when I realized how the two matters moved me. I felt several distinct waves of disgust involved with the the gospel left for me. The first was at the point of discovery. At first I thought "Ticket!" and all the worry that goes with it. After the realization of it's evangelical nature and intent, I felt the usual annoyance I always go through when someone tries to tell me their way of thinking is superior. The straw that broke the camel's back, though, was when I realized the targeted and personal nature of the gift. I was the only one chosen to receive this bit of preaching, presumably because of a my "Darwin Fish" car decal, and the 'giver' pointedly gave something he bought for himself to me. He told himself "this guy needs this more than me," or, in another way, "I'm better than this guy because of this little booklet, maybe if he reads it, he's be as good a person as I am!" Sorry, pamphlet-droppers, I resent the blanket assumption that you are right and I am wrong.
     The feelings stirred up, however, from the dingy gas station in the inner city, and the anonymous charity I experienced, seem somehow holy. It came to me with no imperative, to expectation, and only as much guilt as I put on myself. In the wake of the blessing of 40$ worth of gas, I have changed my plans for the future. I have since vowed to pay the gas forward, when I have the financial ability, manyfold. When I arrived to 40$ in free gas, I felt special and lucky, as well as humbled and owing. I felt as though something very wonderful had happened, and that I had to somehow pay my fair price for it, to somehow return those good feelings to the universe in kind, since I cannot repay the person who donated my gas. What truer definition of a miracle can you ask for?

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