The Car Wash

I rummaged through my wallet to see if I had a coupon for half off at Embassy Car Wash.  The place sure was busy this morning.  Giving up, I pulled out my credit card as my thoughts went to the packing I still had to do for our weekend trip to Pennsylvania.

As I waited in line I overheard a conversation between the cashier and a woman in front of the customer ahead of me.  I wondered why she was there; she just stood there talking to the cashier.  

The slender woman I’ll call Patricia was neatly dressed with her blonde hair tightly slicked back and neatly tucked into a pony tail, and her jeans and top were clean.  Her eyes were a dull pale blue.   

Cashier to Patricia:  “You look sad today.”

Patricia: “I'm depressed.  I have depression.  All I want to do is sit around the house and cry.  When my kids ask me what’s wrong, I tell them something sad on TV made me cry.”

Patricia talked fast like she had been holding that bit of information in for a long time.

Cashier, with sympathy:  “I have a friend who is depressed too.”

Patricia:  “I'm so tired.  I have such horrible nightmares -- I’m afraid to go to sleep; so I force myself to stay awake until one o’clock in the morning.  I just don’t want to go to sleep.  I’ve taken Prozac for seven years, but I’ve been off it for over a month now because I can’t afford the twenty dollars per month for the medication.  My husband works for eight dollars an hour and now they took away our medical insurance.  I’ve looked and looked for a job, but there’s nothing out there.”

Cashier: “I know what you mean.  My boyfriend lost his insurance too, and he’s looking for a better job.”

Patricia sighed, put an elbow on the counter, and was quiet.  She propped her head on her hand, and looked out the window of the car wash to the workers busily wiping down cars.

As the cashier rang me up, my mind went back to the time in my life when I suffered severe anxiety-based depression.  As I signed my credit card slip, I noticed her tennis shoes had seen better days.  I could tell she was trying hard to keep herself together.

Cashier: “Ain’t it the truth! When you wanna work, there’s nothin’ out there that pays enough to live off of; and for those who don’t wanna work, they get welfare checks, can sit home all day, watch TV and make real good money.”

I wondered if the cashier heard the same news report I’d heard that said welfare recipients can make anywhere from thirty thousand to fifty thousand and even more (in Hawaii) on welfare. 

Patricia placed her elbows on the counter, crossed her arms, then put her head down on her arms. 

Before I could think twice, I found myself opening my wallet to see how much cash I had.  I pulled out thirty dollars, and moved toward her, getting her attention before pressing the money into her right hand.

A shocked look spread across her face. “Oh my gosh!” Patricia exclaimed.

I told her God loves her, sees and cares about her and her family.  Would she allow me to pray for her in Jesus’ Name?  She said “yes,” and quickly bowed her head in that public place as people walked around us.  I leaned in close to her, and she gripped my hand like a person grasping a life line.

I commanded those nightmares to stop, in Jesus’ Name. I blessed her with good health and asked the Lord to bring a better-paying job for her husband and meet all their needs.  I spoke peace into her life and called her my friend as I lifted her up to the Lord.  I was conscious of the presence of the Holy Spirit on me as I looked to Him to work in this woman’s life.

She was in no hurry to let go of my hand.  I told her I had suffered with severe anxiety-based depression in 2004-2005 and had been on a medication for a year and three months.  So I understood about clinical depression, and told her I believed she’d be okay just like I’m now totally okay. 

My next action could be considered risky, but I reached into my purse, pulled out my business card case and handed her a contact card, saying, “If you ever need to talk…”  I gave her a smile and reassuring pat on the back, and made my exit.

Cars had to drive around my waiting vehicle, but I didn’t care.  Kingdom business takes precedence over everything else – even at a car wash! 

My 67^th birthday was indeed blessed and off to a great start!

Copyright © 2013 Elaine Beachy