Here’s where we pretend we’re living in a city.

Cloninger’s Marketplace carries groceries, a small selection of children’s toys, and various specimens of humanity. You can start working there at 14, and in a couple years, if you’re lucky, you’ll be looking at a decent paycheck.
With self checkouts, we can go to the store without talking to a soul. The large, fleshy woman sagging on the chair at the door eyes your cart suspiciously as you leave. The pale lanky teenager skulking the aisles has a prominent Adam’s apple and an unidentifiable gender. The female ringing up your purchases wears a baggy sweater covered in cat hair. The formidable self-checkout aide hovers over your shoulder, stale breath wafting down your neck. And we pretend we’ve seen so many faces today that we can’t acknowledge each one. But everyone knows Grangeville isn’t that big.
She was wearing a colorful skirt and a pleasant expression. We ran into each other in the medicine aisle. “Hi there!” She said, smiling.
I reached for cherry lozenges. “Hi, how are you doing today?”
“Oh, I’m great!” She radiated enthusiasm. “On top of the world, actually. Before I met Jesus, I was under the world. But now I’m on top of the world!”

Before I met Jesus… Was He in the next aisle? Did I miss seeing His face?

I wasn’t looking. I found what I expected: cough syrup, lozenges, stale breath, and cat hair. I hadn’t expected to see the face of Christ. Ann Voskamp said, “Wrestle with God, beg to see the blessings… and all faces become the face of God.”
“All faces become the face of God…” All of us, this broken, scrabbling, filthy population, are carrying His image. All the faces become ethereal, a tiny window into the Father’s heart. Little pockets of grace remind us to carry His image in our souls, as well as our physical body. We just have to stop looking at the surface, and go deeper. We just have to see the bleeding hearts beneath each face.

We just have to let go of the grave cloths, and see the hallowed faces.

“Wrestle with God, beg to see the blessings… and all faces become the face of God.” —Ann Voskamp