Customer: (n) a buyer; patron
I have settled an age-old conflict in my well-traveled mind.
I am weary of philosophy, bored with theology, lack the “self” to give to “help”—and I’m allergic to politics.
I have decided life is not nearly as complicated as pundits, theologians and Madison Avenue may wish to portray. You just have to decide one quandary:
Am I the customer and God the store owner?
Or am I running a little storefront and God is the customer?
Am I trying to impress God with my wares, my righteousness, my worship and my Bible study? Or is God running a pretty magnificent manufacturing plant, and merely wants me to come in and enjoy the process, learn the assembly line, pick a car of my choice which will propel me in life—and be thrilled with the quality?
You do see the difference, don’t you?
In one scenario, I am a sniveling shopkeeper, certain that the customer is going to show up, despise my ambiance and find my products inferior.
In the other case, I arrive with great anticipation to a well-oiled operation, and it’s my job to enjoy the good stuff and admire the hell out of it.
If heaven is going to be about God and me discussing my attempts at purity and goodness on Earth, it’s gonna be a snoozer.
But if I show up as a satisfied customer from one of his plants to the Central location to be further wowed by the Boss’s management skills and ingenuity?
It’s almost worth dying.