I'm a whore.

I was at work the other day and I had a frustrating encounter with a customer. I work at a scrapbooking store in Danville. We have lots of interesting customers since the people in Danville are relatively interesting. I'm seriously mortified by my thoughts about, actions towards, and words spoken to this one particular customer. She walked into the store on her bluetooth and left the store on her bluetooth. She waltzed in wearing a black leather mini-skirt and heels with her expensive boobs on display. Tanned, bleached and plastic. The first thing that crossed my mind when I saw her was "Oh. Great. Yet another Danville whore". One of my biggest pet peeves is when customers continue their cell phone conversations while I'm checking them out. Its just rude. So, I was especially miffed when she approached the counter yapping away on her bluetooth. THEN I noticed her Rolex and the massive diamond (most likely a blood diamond) that adorned her perfectly manicured hand. I couldn't help but think of how many African children could be fed, clothed and educated with the thousands of dollars spent on this woman's jewelry alone. Her total was $10.81 and she slapped down her gold AmEx. I told her that was the one card we don't accept. She smiled quaintly and then she searched through her Louis Vuitton wallet for another credit card. I think she may have had about 10 credit cards. After I bagged her items and handed her the receipt, she smiled and mouthed "thank you" as she scooped up the keys to her Mercedes and pranced out the door. After she left, I proceeded to bitch about my encounter with her to my coworkers. I'm such a brat. 

And you know what else I am? I'm a whore. When I came home from work I began to think about that woman and God showed me how much I have in common with her. I was reminded of the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector in the gospel of Luke (chapter 18). The parable starts out like this: "To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else.". As you can already see, Jesus told that parable for me, well, technically for all of us. But definitely for me. The parable goes like this: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men-robbers, evildoers, adulterers-or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.' But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God have mercy on me, a sinner.'"

Then at the end of the parable Jesus says, "I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." I am the Pharisee in this parable and I am now most certainly, humbled. Father, forgive me. One of my first thoughts about the Danville whore was "thank goodness I'm not like her. I don't waste my money on diamonds, trips to the tanning salon, silicon implants or dress like a tramp." No, I don't do any of those things. But you know what? I do a lot of other whorish crap. My boobs are real, I try to dress modestly, I don't dye my hair, I don't wear gaudy make-up, but I'm still most certainly a whore. I'm a whore to self-righteousness, knowledge, prowess, success, education, recognition, and trends. Just to name a few. Obviously, when you look up "whore" in the dictionary, the first definition will most likely be "prostitute". But there was another definition when I looked it up: "debasing [or degrading] oneself by doing something for unworthy motives". I'm not a prostitute, but I am guilty of whoring myself to the temptations of this world. 

The only reason I am worth anything is because the Creator of the universe loves me and His Son bled for me. And you know what? The Creator of the universe loves the Danville whore too and Jesus most certainly died for her too. I guess we're all whores. Whores saved by the blood of the lamb. Hallelujah. 

Grace and peace.

Hillary

Father, forgive me. Help me to recognize the material things or ideas that I whore myself to. There are many. Anything that distracts me from You and bringing You glory is something that I'm guilty of whoring myself to.