Organic Celery and a Stolen Bike
This morning my bike was stolen from outside of our house. We had placed my bike and Scott’s (with O’s baby seat on it) outside our open door. Scott ran to change his contact lens, and when I picked up O to take him outside to load him up, I realized that we had a diaper emergency. While I changed Oliver, someone took off with my bike. It was stolen from right in front of our open door with our neighbor watching. (yes I feel foolish, it should have been locked. But we are talking minutes here). It’s upsetting to say the least. I have had that bike since before high school and I ride it to work every day. I had really come to love it. I feel a sense of disappointment at humanity. What a selfish disregard for property.
On my long bike-less walk to work this morning I remembered something that I had been feeling guilty about since our trip to the grocery store on Saturday. I was at the self checkout at Harris Teeter, and as I was checking out the organic celery (there was no conventional celery in stock) I could not find an organic celery code, so I typed in the code for celery and went on my way. While I would never steal someone’s bike, I certainly am not entirely spotless. (As my boss said this morning, “have you ever taken a pen from work?—that’s stealing”)
Beyond celery and the bike, I think taking something that is not yours is tied to a complex sense of both entitlement, envy, and a sense that we don’t have enough. I believe in a God who provides for us (but requires us to help ourselves) and who commands us to give to others who are in need. If we could trust in God and watch out for one another a little more life would be better.