A man yelled at me today for stealing his pennies. As ridiculous as it sounds, it is quite true. My wonderful husband and I were at Costco, taking advantage of their oversized and underpriced pizza. The woman who was helping me answered a phone call just after taking my money and handing me my food, so in my mind I was good to go. I left the line carrying our food and drinks, but forgot about the small amount of change I should be receiving. A nice man in line came running after me to tell me, so I went back, grabbed the coins that were sitting on the counter and then walked away. “HEY! Those are my pennies!!!” The man in the front of the line yelled. It was such an outburst, I honestly thought he was joking. I looked at him slightly bewildered but still in a haze of confusion, and then looked at the woman who had helped me and had obviously asked someone to call me back to come get my change. The angry man was still looking at me and saying something that went over my head as I reached out to put the coins down. I apologized a few times but he was beside himself and was not having it. It was a baffling display of emotion…all over about 8 cents. The woman who had helped me reached out and gave me my change from behind the counter. Then it began to make sense. She hadn’t put it out there yet, and I had assumed the man’s partial payment of 8 cents was the change she sent after me for. I was stunned, hurt, embarrassed and a bit angry myself. I passive-aggressively told the man “I hope you have a better day,” and left with my 37 cents or whatever it was. He never softened up…not that I loved him through it or gave him a reason to. I didn’t handle that one as well as I would’ve liked. As I walked back to my table, I remembered a quote by Socrates I recently heard, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
My Grandpa Jack
died on Saturday morning. He is someone who brought so much love and laughter
into my life. He was a total crack-up and always so much fun. He’s had
Parkinson’s disease for a while now, and the last few years have brought their
share of pain his way. Even then, he would light-heartedly tell me about the physical
pains he had, and the hallucinations that sometimes came. But he wasn’t complaining.
He kept a smile on his face, even as I saw his body deteriorating. In the end,
he had pneumonia and kidney failure which led to everything shutting down. He
died two months before his 59th wedding anniversary with my sweet
Grandma Dee. So that’s my battle right now.
As I walked away
from Mr. Those are my Pennies!, I
thought- I wish he knew he just yelled at someone who is heartbroken… and all
over a few pennies. I was going over in my head what I wished I would’ve said
to make him feel embarrassed or remorseful, and then it hit me. If he got that
upset over a few pennies, he must be hurting over something himself. What battle could he be fighting? I felt
the remorse come over my heart about getting so mad at him that I let my mouth
speak words that were far from “useful for building others up.” I felt ashamed.
Loss is a really
hard thing. The difficult moments come out of nowhere, and then there are times
when you think you should be feeling
something and you’re just numb. I found out last Wednesday that Grandpa Jack
was hospitalized and only had a few days to live. I grieved so much that night
that it was as though I had already lost him. Three days later when I was told
he had died, I had no tears. I had been waiting for that call. Then today,
talking to my Grandma Dee and hearing her pain, it came washing over me like a
flood that wouldn’t be contained. I knew I needed to pray but strongly felt
like I wanted to lie down and rest (it would only be an hour before my precious
toddler woke from her nap and needed me to be fully engaged with her). I went
to my bed and got under the covers. I began to speak to God, as the daddy I
really needed Him to be for me. He ushered the words of Psalm 23 into my head.
The Lord
is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul…
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul…
I thought about
God likening me to a sheep, which is a little funny, a lot humbling, and just
the right amount of pressure-relieving. And then I thought about how I could
have any shepherd in the whole world, and He decided to take on the
assignment. He chose to be my God! The Psalmist says “I shall not be in want.” I thought about how much my heart was
hurting, for my loss, for Grandma Dee and for all those Grandpa Jack left
behind; and I thought about that verse…that we shall not be in want. I knew in
that moment – God will heal our hearts, in due time. “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet
waters...” My bedroom is not green pastures and quiet waters, but it must
be the closest thing to it – fluffy pillows and a cozy homemade quilt (not by
me!) on the bed, the scent of lavender in the air and warm woodsy colors all
around. God sent me there to rest when I truly needed it, so that I could later
make it through the rest of my day. And then my favorite, “He restores my soul.” That sealed the deal. That was what I
needed. I felt drained from the sadness and the tears. I needed Soul Restoration, but couldn’t have put
it into words before my Daddy whispered His Words into my heart as I lay in my
own personal green pasture. The tears that had been pouring onto my pillow as I
prayed slowly subsided and my heart welcomed the peace that tenderly began to
pervade it.
I read today, in
a life-changing book called The Circle Maker, that we should desire
“just enough” from God. As the miracle of manna showed, God wants to give us
just enough so that we won’t have too much or too little. With too much, we
don’t look to Him to meet our needs. With too little, our needs are not met.
But with just enough, we know which direction we need to turn: not inward, not
outward, but upward. Even in the times of deep pain and sadness, turning to
God, we will get just enough to make it through. God knows this and loves this. I am coming to love this
principle as well. As I mature spiritually, and stop trying to fight for a life
full of days where things go my way, I am learning to lean more towards
desiring days where God sees me through whatever comes; days where I do not look
for tasks that match up to my strength, but where I ask for God to give me
strength that will match up to the tasks He sees fit to give for that day*.
Just as Jesus
prayed “Give us each day our daily bread,” I want to make it my consistent petition.
Whether I am facing sadness, pain, anxiety, an overwhelmed heart, fear,
exhaustion- anything that I can face in my day as a disciple, wife and mom-
this is a key that can sustain me throughout. Father, please give me each day,
my daily bread; be it comfort, healing, energy, companionship, rest or anything
else I need.
“And be sure of
this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20
*I discovered this idea in the book, Having a
Mary Heart in a Martha World.
Here’s Grandma Dee with my son, Linc, just after he was born.