Long work-weeks make us look forward to those two-in-a-row days to relax. But, in most families, relaxation will take a back seat to life. Non-work hours are rare and sacred, but there is only so much available time to do the ‘domestic stuff’.
Today, exasperation seemed to rule. Everything took longer than it should. Everything came with its own speed-bumps. Nothing went as planned.
A person can’t help but ask, “Why does this always happen when we’re rushed for time?”
I know where it’s located and as I turned the corner, I was faced with stacks of newly delivered product all down the aisle and a few stockers to go with it. This isn’t going to work! I’ll finish the rest of my shopping and come back.
I walked to the back of the store and thought I’ll start in the dairy. On the way, as I looked down each row of shelving, I noticed that there was no activity, but you’d be quite right assuming those aisles held nothing on my list.
I needed yogurt.
I slowed my pace as it became obvious that the genie-of-goods-delivered had made an appearance here as well. Is this my curse today? I can’t keep back-tracking or I won’t ever leave this place!
I wiggled my way through the roadblocks choosing a carton while squeezing by those preparing the store for the later-in-the-day shoppers. (Why didn’t I wait? Because, by shopping early I beat the crowds. Apparently, the crowds know that shopping later with crowds is quicker than shopping with this never-know-where-he-will-pop-up genie.)
Shopping’s nearly done so I head back to the bread section. The barrier called stockers? Still there. STILL there! But, they look to be finishing up soon so another excursion to find lunch meat. This section of the store is all along one wall and provides room for lots of choices.
I’m simple though. I just want some sliced turkey. That shouldn’t be too hard and I see no delivery bins. Perfect. I find the right area and now I’m standing behind an older woman – directly behind this older woman who is apparently unable to make a decision for all the choices. Can you feel my heart-rate climbing?
Of all the places in all the stores, I’m going to be waiting again for someone to get out of my way.
Suddenly she turns and with a look that tells me she was lost in thought and just realized she was an obstacle to someone else, her hand flies to her mouth as she says, “Oh, I’m so sorry!”
I, of course, state that she need not be sorry. She should take her time. (I guess that’s some kind of upbringing residue – being polite when you you’re feeling the opposite. Telling this woman she’s in my way just won’t cross my lips. )
Then in a subdued and somewhat shaky voice she says, “I’m trying to get back home before he wakes up. I hope I get there before he wakes up.”
I’m feeling a bit awkward now, but I quietly mention that I’m sure it will be OK.
Then she tells me, “He’s got a bit of dementia.”
I could only say, “I’m sorry. That’s a cruel disease.” And then, quite by surprise, I said, “I’ll say a prayer for you, if that’s OK.”
Her mouth moves in an upward arc as the smile hesitantly begins to grow. She says, 'Thank you" and in the corner of her eye, I notice a tear drop waiting to spill.
I hope she didn’t notice mine.
I’m home now. I wonder about today’s roadblocks. I wonder if they were there for a reason. I wonder if the whole day boiled down to that one interaction. I wonder if I can learn something here – really learn something. I wonder if I can grow a little bit. I wonder if maybe I was the one in the way.
I wonder if I can keep myself open to the insignificant but monumental opportunities for stranger-love; the kind of love Jesus has for all of us.
"Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." Ephesians 4:2
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