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Once upon a time, I shared with a small group from my church that I wanted them to join me in praying that God would increase my patience. The sweet mom of a friend warned me, “When you pray for patience, the Good Lord will give you a chance to practice it, and if you pray to be a blessing, He will give you the opportunity.”
Though I didn’t quite understand it at first, I have been reminded of that piece of advice through the years and this particular day was no exception. If only I had been listening better, I could have recognized an opportunity. Funny how we sure do like to make our frequent requests known to God, but become mighty aloof when it comes to listening for the answers. And by “we,” I definitely mean, “me.”
It was almost lunchtime on a Tuesday and the baby and I were leaving Pigtails and Crewcuts after his first haircut. The change in him was just as dramatic as it was with my oldest son and I found myself starting the process of mourning my last baby as he completes the transition into toddlerdom. A highlight reel of all the little moments spent with his fat little cheeks nuzzled up under my chin played in my head as we pulled out of the parking lot. It wasn’t until I had already turned left and started off down the road that I realized, in my daze, I had turned in the wrong direction. Laughing at myself, I started getting over to make a U-turn when I remembered that I was not far from one of my favorite delis and I suddenly got the craving for a cup of broccoli cheese soup. The baby was in a good mood, so I continued on towards the restaurant. I saw the shopping plaza coming up on my right and slowed to turn in. That is when it happened.
He was coming from the opposite direction in a white Acura, his blinker indicating that he planned to turn across my lane into the same plaza. The light was green, so I had the right of way. That did not seem to matter as he darted in front of me, narrowly missing my front end and causing me to slam on the brakes so that he did not ram into me. As I pulled in behind him, a switch flipped in my brain and I lost myself.
With shaking hands of fury, I decided that this guy needed to be punished, and it was my job to do it. (And by punish, I meant “give a stern talking to.” What can I say? The thug life chose me.)
It seemed to be my lucky day because he parked and I realized he was going to the same deli. I parked right behind him and practically pounced out of my car like a kitten who has eyed a ball of yarn. As I walked around the back of my car to get the baby out, I stared at him without stopping. He was still sitting in his car without moving as the baby and I walked toward the door, in front of which he was directly parked. I never stopped looking at him, judging his character and deciding the best way to verbally take him down. As if I was not being dramatic enough, I opened the door and turned around to stare him down for a full 3 seconds before spinning on my heel and blowing through the door like a self-righteous wind. He was still sitting there in his car, blue tooth hanging from his ear, when I got to the counter to order. Before anyone came up front to offer service, I saw him walk in the door and pause when he saw me at the counter, turn and walk into the restrooms. When he came out, I was giving my order and I noticed him walk to the pick-up area and turn to face the wall, just to avoid looking at me. I could feel the sneer on my face as I walked right up behind him to wait for my name to be called. Then I literally began to laugh out loud when he walked sideways along the wall and moved to the other end of the counter, far away from where the baby and I were standing. It wasn’t long before my order was ready and I took another look across the restaurant to see if he was still there. He was busily looking through the four bags of food he had, checking the contents. Seeing a perfect opportunity, I slowed my gait in an effort to reach the door just before he did so that I could open the door for him and give him a lecture about the dangers of being a self-absorbed road hog. I intended to throw something in there about how he put my child at risk with his carelessness. My excitement grew as I plotted his dressing-down.
But he wasn’t moving. As I stood ten paces from the door pretending to fumble through my coat pockets to find my keys, he stood at the counter pretending to check, double and triple check his bags. It didn’t take long for me to realize he was not planning to leave until I walked out to my car. Disappointed, I “found” my keys and stomped out to my car. One last glance back to the shop window revealed him inching toward the exit. I jumped into my seat and slammed the car door. Only then did he dart outside, toss the bags into his backseat and slide into his own vehicle.
Slightly disgruntled at my failure to put this schmuck in his place, I drove to the exit of the parking lot and stopped, waiting for the light to change to green. Even though the incident was seemingly over, I peered into the rearview mirror to see if he was going to pull up next to me to turn back in the direction from which he arrived. I figured I might be able to get in one last pursed lip, Church Lady scowl before he pulled away and I never saw him again. Instead, what I did see caused me to start laughing out loud.
He was creeping at a snail’s pace toward the light and then suddenly turned into a parking spot near the exit and just sat. And I lost it. I shouted, “HE’S SCARED OF ME!” then watched incredulously as the light turned green and I turned out on to the road because as soon as I was cleared of the intersection, I saw him start pulling back out of the space to exit the parking lot. I could not stop the belly laughs that erupted from me, interrupted only by my repeated shouts of “I SCARED HIM!”. I was laughing so loud and joyously that the baby started laughing as well, clapping his hands and kicking his feet.
My celebration, complete with fist pumping and some hybrid form of weird jazz hands, lasted for about a full minute and then stopped abruptly when the thought passed through my head, “He probably wasn’t scared. He was embarrassed.”
I say it passed through but the truth is that this new reflection came in and set up camp right in the middle of my thoughts. I kept replaying the episode but trying to watch through this new filter of humiliation. I thought about how many times I have misjudged how much room I have to get over or how much time I have to pull out in front of someone and have felt my face grow hot with embarrassment and shame for endangering the lives of strangers. Those times when I have found myself sinking down in my seat and wishing there was a button that I could push that would extend a big sign over my car reading, “My fault. So sorry!!” because I didn’t have the stones to look the person in the face. I thought about how horrific it would have been had I nearly caused an accident and then had my “near victim” park right behind me and enter my intended destination. Not only that, but what if they stared me down while they walked in the door? I had to be honest with myself, I don’t think that I would have been brave enough to walk inside either.
At that moment, I saw something different in that guy than I had been able to see through the entire interaction. I saw myself. And it suddenly became so clear that we are both just two of God’s children living the human experience. Our journeys are our own and we both have so many lessons that we are here to learn. Humanity is the tangible proof that we are all connected.
I cannot go back and behave differently. I cannot walk into that deli and smile and the guy to let him know that I understand and offer forgiveness. All I can do is remind myself for the future and tell my story so that others may think twice the next time they find themselves in a similar situation.
We are all connected and able to best serve others by first loving ourselves as Jesus does. When we make a conscious choice to look at others as mirrors in which we see ourselves reflected, we will subsequently perceive Jesus in them, thereby loving them as we love ourselves.
Follow Him, choose compassion, change the world.
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Sorry to pick at such a well written article, but I think that one of the 'and's was supposed to be an 'at' about half way through the story? Looked like a typo, but I could be wrong.
Over all, great story and well written.