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The Filling Station
Recently, I read Elizabeth Bishop’s poem, “The Filling Station,” and was struck by its message. The poem opens with an image of a place that seems far from holy: a greasy filling station with “oil-soaked, oil-permeated” walls. It appears messy and ordinary. However, as the poem unfolds, the speaker discovers something unexpectedly beautiful in this gritty space. This realization — that love can emerge in such an unlikely setting — invites us to reflect on how God's grace operates in our lives.
Filling Station
Oh, but it is dirty!
—this little filling station,
oil-soaked, oil-permeated
to a disturbing, over-all
black translucency.
Be careful with that match!
Father wears a dirty,
oil-soaked monkey suit
that cuts him under the arms,
and several quick and saucy
and greasy sons assist him
(it’s a family filling station),
all quite thoroughly dirty.
Do they live in the station?
It has a cement porch
behind the pumps, and on it
a set of crushed and grease-
impregnated wickerwork;
on the wicker sofa
a dirty dog, quite comfy.
Some comic books provide
the only note of color—
of certain color. They lie
upon a big dim doily
draping a taboret
(part of the set), beside
a big hirsute begonia.
Why the extraneous plant?
Why the taboret?
Why, oh why, the doily?
(Embroidered in daisy stitch
with marguerites, I think,
and heavy with gray crochet.)
Somebody embroidered the doily.
Somebody waters the plant,
or oils it, maybe. Somebody
arranges the rows of cans
so that they softly say:
esso—so—so—so
to high-strung automobiles.
Somebody loves us all.[i]
I am reminded of 2 Corinthians: “But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.” (2 Corinthians 4:7-9) The filling station is a space where things are imperfect yet meaningful. Our world is similarly messy, but God’s love does not avoid the dirt or clutter. It is in these moments of imperfection that His grace shines the brightest.
The speaker observes the “grease” and “oil” marking the station but realizes these details are signs of care. Someone has tended to this place, even if the care is not immediately visible. Our lives often feel messy, but Bishop encourages us to look deeper and recognize the traces of love and care, even when they aren't obvious.
The filling station, despite its grime, becomes a symbol of redemption. It reminds us that God does not wait for us to clean up before He enters. In our brokenness, He is already present, loving and redeeming us. Bishop’s closing lines, “Somebody loves us all,” remind us that God's love transforms the world, not in spite of its flaws, but through them.
[i] Bishop, Elizabeth. “The Filling Station.” The Complete Poems 1927-1979. The Noonday Press, 1995. p. 127.
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