Awkward

I saw him as he was pumping gas.  My heart sank a bit.  I didn’t really want to talk to him.

He finished pumping his gas and started walking in to pay.  “Why didn’t he just pay at the pump so I don’t have to talk to him?”, I thought to myself.

That’s not a good attitude.  I quickly recovered and decided to greet him warmly.

“Hey, ________, how are you?”, I said.

I got something like a dismissive grunt back.  Schwew.  It wasn’t just awkward for me.

I used to know him fairly well.  I even remember one of that last real one-on-one conversations I had with him.  I ran into him about 40 miles from our houses.  He told me about his changing beliefs, some of which I consider bedrock items of the faith.  He told me about a preacher he liked who I think is a heretic.

Not long ago, before the gas pumping incident,  I had a chance to listen to him talk. Not a real conversation.  More like listening to him talk about all the things he likes, things I found a hard time lining up with the faith we (once?) shared.

I don’t know if he has shipwrecked his faith.  I worry much more about shipwrecking my own. I don’t know if he believes.  Maybe he always believed differently. I can’t really judge his heart.

I just know that the encounter was awkward.  Awkward listening to him talk.  Awkward running into him.

And I wonder how Jesus would have me overcome the awkwardness.

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