read more AS IS

Lucky Little

“Have you ever seen the sticker that they put on some used cars that says ‘As Is’?”

I hadn’t seen my mom in probably five or six weeks and she only lived about 15 minutes away. I was blowing and going. I’d put in 60 plus hours a week at the dealership making stacks of cash and then on my only day off I would be recovering from Saturday night half the day then squeezing the most out of the back half of Sunday before it was back to the grind early Monday morning. Oh I had seen the stickers all right. Just a couple years prior to that I was one of the used car managers at a car lot that was moving about 400 used cars per month over the curb. A good chunk of those were those exact cars we referred to as beaters, clunkers and sleds. The preacher went on, “The cars are usually in very bad shape. The tires are bald if not flat, the windshield is cracked, it’s leaking oil, the A/C blows hot, there are dents and scratches and parts missing, the upholstery is ripped, the dash is cracked, the electrical system is out of whack, and any other number of things that make the vehicle unattractive and undesirable for most people.” Wow, this guy has my number I’m thinking. I never went to church. We didn’t go as a family when I was growing up except for weddings and funerals as far as I could remember anyway and I certainly didn’t ever go on my own. This was about the summer of 1998. I look around at hundreds of people in the service. I knew my mom didn’t have that kind of clout that she could have the pastor give a message that would strike my interest. He continued on and came around to the point that this is the way, As Is, that God accepts us. “God is the true and only restorer. God is in the restoration business” he preached. My heart burned in my chest. I did actually make it to church at an early age. I was in 6th grade and my neighbor Laurie invited me to go with her, she was in 7th grade. The week I went we had a little bible study in a back classroom for the kids. I don’t recall much of that study. The only Jesus I knew was the one on the wall at the Indelicato’s house that hung on a cross. He had a crown of thorns on his head leaking blood and nails through his hands and feet. I didn’t know what all that was about but it looked painful, and sad. “What did he do to deserve that?” I thought. The next week the bible study would be in Galveston on the beach. Cool, I like the beach and there were a couple of pretty girls in the class. I began at a very young age playing kissy kiss with girls and by this time I had gone around a few of the ‘bases’. Sure enough, after a quick bible study I was out in the water with a girl making my moves. I was really disappointed with myself after that day and was pretty sure that God didn’t want to see me back. I was bad and I knew it. By 1998 I had crossed over from a little bad boy into a great sinner. I was bad company and corrupted most that hung around me too long. This weekend I figured I would really make it up to my mom for not seeing her in so long by meeting her at her church. She loved to show me off to her friends so I figured I would not only get points for seeing her but extra credit for coming to her church. The man of God continued to explain that God is not waiting for us to be good enough or clean enough or religious enough, that God accepts us and even calls us to Himself just as we are. I was broken for sure. There wasn’t an area of my life that wasn’t corrupt. The fact that I was in a church and wasn’t catching on fire was a surprise to me. I was embarrassed just hearing the preacher speak about such a loving God. Here I was a piece of trash. How could he love me? I would look over at my mom waiting to see her look at me with a raised eyebrow as to say, ‘Uh huh, we know and yes he’s talking about you’. She never did give me that look. This wasn’t between me and her, this was between me and God. I felt my eyes swell up but maintained my tough guy composure. I thought to myself, “God, you don’t know all that I have done.” The pastor read some scriptures, I don’t remember which ones, but I received them as the word of God and I felt as though God was opening his arms to me. I knew great fatherly love from my dad. I knew I had to meet with the Pastor and I wanted to do it soon but not here, not today.