Abort Mission!

Yesterday I posted a blog about committing to the act of love even when we don't feel like loving someone.  Today I thought I would share with you my first attempt to do that.

As a stay-at-home mother, I often do a lot of staying at home, which tends to limit my contact to the general public.  I initially had no plan to go out this morning, but as the day progressed smoothly and all morning responsibilities were completed, I thought we would venture out to get Colette a pair of snow boots.  Everyone was chipper and cooperative as I loaded them into the vehicle.  As we were exiting our subdivision, I noticed a man entering the sub on foot struggling to keep on a plastic poncho that was blowing in the blustery wind.  The poncho had pockets with bundles of paper in each and from the ones that were escaping, I could see that he would be hanging advertisements on our doorknobs.

As we continued on our way I thought about what an unfortunate job this man had on such a day as this.  There would be no respite from the cold and the wind would be fighting his every effort.  I felt a tug to turn the car around and wait for him to make his way back to our street so I could offer him a cup of coffee.  I ignored it.  I had promised Colette we would get her boots today.

We continued on our way through downtown Howell and we noticed a crowd of people gathered around a monument at City Hall.  It was 11:10 am.  I realized the crowd was gathered in honor of Veteran's Day.  I had spent time that morning discussing with Colette how we live in a free country as a result of those that served, but I didn't know about the event taking place.  I thought to myself how it would have been nice to have gone in support, but finding a parking spot and facing the wind and cold with three small children seemed too challenging a task.  And we were on a mission to get boots.

 We arrived at Kohl's and all children were happy and accounted for as we entered the door.  I sat Julia in one of the shopping carts and as I was strapping her in, Mary selected another cart.  "I push this, Mom?" she asked.

"No, Honey.  We have a cart," I say, unsuspecting of the trauma this would cause.  A store employee had innocently ventured over to admire Julia's cuteness just as Mary fell to the floor.  She started wailing.    I attempted to scoop her up and explain calmly my reasoning.  It was the only other cart.  Other people would need it.  The wailing got louder and suddenly she was flailing her arms and legs.  Oh my.  It was clear from the amount of staring by patrons, I needed to leave.  I picked up Julia, informed Colette apologetically of my intent to leave, and turned to find Mary fleeing from me as fast as she had ever run in her whole life.  I followed, all the while trying to maintain my cool and a respectable level to my voice as I beckoned her to come back.  I am not sure how I must have appeared to the amount of onlookers as I snagged one of Mary's arms, causing her to yo-yo back in to me.  I scooped her up in a football hold, as I was balancing Julia on my other hip, and bolted for the door that seemed miles away now.  The wailing and flailing continued.  Colette and Julia must have looked like angels and drawn the sympathies of everyone present.

Everyone made it safely back to the car, but I was humiliated.  Suddenly, any confidence that I had in my parenting abilities were left at the front entrance of Kohl's.  The child, now restrained by the straps of her car seat, seemed unconquerable.  "It's okay, Mommy.  I don't need boots today," Colette said, as the tears started falling down my cheeks.

I informed Mary of her consequences as we drove home.  She cried and promised she would be good now and begged for me to let her go to the movie night at church.  As we pulled into the sub, there he was- the man with the blowing poncho- making his way toward our street.  The tug to offer some form of kindness was present again.  I considered all of the excuses I had to just ignore him- Mary was still crying and needed consoling and discussion of her actions, Julia somehow was sleeping in the midst of chaos and would need to be carried to her room, I had no coffee brewing, lunch needed to be made, and really, I just felt like I needed somebody to hug me and tell me I'm loved, because those looks from the people in Kohl's communicated quite the opposite.  I did not feel like showing someone else kindness!

And that is exactly what made it the right opportunity.  I unloaded the children, got them settled, and watched as he made his way to my house.  I went down the drive to meet him and greeted him with a smile, "How are you?"  He looked at me cautiously.  I suspect he was waiting for me to tell him our sub didn't welcome his marketing.  "It's a cold day for a job like that!" I said, "Could I get you a cup of coffee, maybe a hot chocolate?"  His old and weathered face broke into a bright smile, "Oh no, ma'am.  I just ate, but thank you!"  He wished me well and went on his way.

I went in the house, wondering what the point was of all this morning's events.  I feel pretty certain that I was wailing and flailing in front of my God when asked to do a simple task.  I will not at all imply that He had a hand in Mary's temper tantrum, but I will say He used it to make sure I understood what my real mission should have been this morning- love, not boots.  And much like it is with our children, when I finally got around to obeying, I was ashamed with how simple it was to carry out the task.  I think we often resist God's call to love, refuting it as too difficult a request.  But the reality is, the request itself is not difficult, the denying of self that it requires is what poses the challenge.

I do not know, and will not ever know, if I made a difference in that man's day.  I am holding on to the mental image of that smile as a small consolation prize.  I believe that as I follow in obedience with a more joyful heart, my reward will be witnessing hearts and lives changed by the love of Christ.  Today, the call to obey was not about what I could do for this man, but what I need to do for myself in understanding my life of service to my gracious and forgiving Father.