It’s Nothing Personal
by Davalynn Spencer
“It’s nothing personal,” said the checker at my favorite grocery store. “Just business.”
The man had just told me that automated checkout would someday replace him and his fellow employees—not just for shoppers who wanted to scan one or two items themselves and hurry out the door, but for everyone.
“Automation is on the horizon,” he said.
The personal touch is what I enjoy about my shopping experience. People helping people. The laughter, smiles, and small talk. Even the difficulty of trying to pass someone else’s cart in a too-crowded aisle.
Historically, marketing was the social event of the week, where people exchanged news and gossip and caught up on each other’s lives. Those who lived close enough to the town square could shop daily. Food and goods were fresh. Imagine the smell of spices, just-baked bread, and ripe fruit. In some places, these pleasures can still be found today.
Has our culture advanced so completely that scanners, cameras, and conveyor belts will replace living people and the delight of sensory perception?
On my way home that day, I considered the “nothing personal” concept and how it might apply to relationships. What if God had promoted such a scheme with chip-reader salvation, auto-deposit eternity, or Smartphone forgiveness?
He didn’t have to be personal. He could have given us a heavenly card-swipe or access to the Kingdom via text.
Instead, Jesus came to our messy world and showed us how to do life. He gave His own life, then rose from the dead to walk with us through ours. That’s pretty personal.
Automation has its place, but I’m sure glad God didn’t use it.
I’m glad His plan was more than “just business.”
Wife and mother of professional rodeo bullfighters, Davalynn Spencer can’t stop #lovingthecowboy. She writes Western romance with rugged heroes, teaches writing workshops, and plays the keyboard on her church worship team—when she’s not wrangling Blue the Cowdog and mouse detectors Annie and Oakley. Connect with her at www.davalynnspencer.com.