Trash. Just, Trash.

Tonight was good. To some extent. Compared to other nights, it was good. Compared to what tomorrow night is promising itself to be, it's great. It was.

I went out with the family to Rooster's. Amazing place. Amazing chicken fingers.

...anyway. Somehow we got on the topic of some things some people who prepare the food (or anyone, for that matter) at restaurants do. My mom mentioned this one guy who spit on a customer's hamburger after it was sent back because it wasn't fully cooked. Not the right thing to do, I'll admit.

"Why would someone do something like that...?" my brother asked. He tends to be the more questioning and sensitive person. He can't understand why some people do the things they do.

"Ian, people like that are trash. That's it, all there is to it. Just trash." my dad replied, without hesitation.

Immediately I stop. I don't say anything. But, I look at my mom hoping she'd say something to him to quiet down, since she can catch on sometimes when I get upset when my dad says something. She doesn't notice, and instead, nods along.

By this time, I want to go home. Sometimes I wonder why I try to avoid my dad. Well. Here it is.

"They're just trash."

I don't know. Maybe it's wrong to think like I do, but I absolutely cannot agree with that. I've done some things that aren't the best. Some things that are wrong. Am I trash? I've been mean to others before. Am I trash? I was close to asking my dad what he thinks of a certain kind of people, just to see what he would say. Since, well, people would probably label me as one of those people. I expected him to say something along the lines of "they're trash."

Honestly, we should all be labeled that. Trash. Trash. Trash. Lying, cheating, thieving cowards. Destined for death because of our choices. But, you know what? I believe in a God that created everyone of us individually. He created us so He could love us. When He sees us, He sees His masterpieces, carefully molded and shaped into something intricate and beautiful- something meant to reflect everything He is. He doesn't see trash. It doesn't matter if you're studying to be a pastor or if you're currently serving life in prison or on death row for murder. It just doesn't matter. God doesn't see trash. He sees something worth more than anything else He's created. He sees something worth twice as much as everything else that is His. He sees us. Even in our failures. He sees His masterpiece.

No trash.

In His eyes, nothing is known to be trash. Not even that guy who spit on his customer's hamburger.

Grace.

kadi.