BellSong

As for me and my blog, we will serve the Lord!

April 12, 2006

MOA Observations

The Mall Of America is a near-perfect metaphor for the flesh world. Temptations abound. Materialism at its finest. Amusement to be had in many forms: marine life, movies, roller coasters, and Hooters waitresses. There is food and "sweeties" of every taste, nutritional value and national origin. I have no doubt that, with the right connections, you can even buy various illicit products. It would surprise me if you can’t arrange a meeting with a lady of the evening. If not, Victoria’s Secret will allow a young woman to dress as one. And there are many who take them up on their offer.

The range of mall visitors is a great cross-section of the world’s population. The many ethnic groups that visit suggests a change in name to the Mall Of The World. The economic strata represented include Old Money, New Money, the Average Joe and the Less than Comfortable. And the Teens.

The Teens cut across all ethnic categories, but generally speak in a homogenized language that anyone over 40 probably can’t decipher (I know, Mom, history repeats itself). The Teens, based on their clothes, also cut across the economic levels. But I doubt it’s their money they are spending (which brings up the unsavory question of why so many 14-year-old girls dress like the mannequins at Victoria’s Secrets and parade around MOA, sometimes with parents in tow).

One group of mall visitors we can’t forget is the "Thugs". You know them by their "armor": the crotch to the knee droopy pants bunched up at the top of the technologically-advanced basketball shoes with fractal-based engineered lacing pattern, the T-shirt that hangs to just above the knee, disguising the fact that the upper 2/3rds of their boxers are showing above their beltline, and of course the Aunt Jemima bandana worn beneath the creatively cock-eyed baseball cap.
The interesting aspect of this group of mall denizens is that they tend to travel in groups of 3-5, with all members of the pack loudly and often profanely conversing on their individual cell phones to persons unknown. That’s what I call gang camaraderie.

But that’s not what I want to talk about. The worst part of these opinions and observations by me is, quite frankly these opinions and observations by me. I like to say a prayer in the truck before I head into the mall for my shift at the Wild Bird Store. Forgiven, loved and wrapped in God’s warm embrace, I march stoically through the parking ramp, ready to face whatever comes. And what comes are these hateful, condemning judgements of God’s children as I pass them.

This is my confession: I find it terribly difficult to say anything nice about the people I see at the MOA. They are all quickly and carelessly categorized in my mind. I’m sad to confess I don’t know if there is a reserved category for "happy, loving, appealing person".

Father God, I ask again for your forgiveness. I repent from judging your children and ask for your strength to start seeing them as whom they are: beloved children of God.

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