Kneeling on a stranger’s carpet, overpriced vacuum hose in hand, I struggled to maintain eye contact. I must have apologized at least half a dozen times—for bothering the poor woman in the first place, for attempting to sell the silly contraption.
For knocking on her door. If only she hadn’t answered.
If only I hadn’t answered that vague ad in the newspaper. Become an independent contractor, they said. Earn thousands in commissions, they said.
Why I ever thought I, a woman who hates rejection, dirt, dust, and talking to strangers, could ever succeed as a door-to-door salesperson is beyond me.
Then again, I didn’t. I quit, and began plotting my resignation by the first house.
I wonder if any of the disciples felt similar when Jesus sent them out, two by two-to share His truth with complete strangers. Granted, they were selling something much more valuable than I was, but still, strangers and religion.
Did that make your stomach dip?
Not only that, but they were to stay with these strangers, as their guests. In their home, presumably for as long as they’d have them. If the strangers were receptive, accepted their message, the disciples were to “let their peace rest on them.” If the homeowners got riled up or kicked the disciples out, they were to shake the dust off their feet. To let no trace of that “rejection” cling to them. (Matthew 10:14)
In other words, they weren’t to allow “rejections” past or present get in the way of their calling. They needed to let them go. So do we. We’ve all experienced rejection, but we don’t have to stay there. The next time someone mistreats or turns their back on you, mentally shake off the dust and move on as you learn to live wholly loved.