Beyond the Chocolate

Posted On September 19, 2019

We’d been in the vast jungle known as Walmart. It’s crazy in there sometimes. I don’t need to tell you this, do I? You’ve already had a Walmart scene flash in your mind with a single word. I’d taken all three kids that day. That’s one preteen and two teens. I know I shouldn’t write snark here, but I imagine another Walmart scene just flashed through your mind. One with a preteen and two teens in it. No further description required. I will say that dashing around the store with the three as they are today is a far cry from when they were 1, 2, and 4. THEM were the dayzzz….

Maybe this is your Walmart scene now. God bless you. Buy some chocolate, you need it. Better get a spare for tomorrow while you’re at it.

((( I have a particularly memorable trip that resulted in my feeling like the worst-mom-ever and I needed help. Instantly. (Missing shoes, wet floor, screaming tots, out-of-wipes kind of experience) I called Focus on the Family. Now, I can look back and see that I was overreacting, but never once have I regretted calling Focus. A kind lady took my call and listened through my tears. Here’s what she said: “Those people in the store aren’t staring at you because they are irritated with you. Believe me, they feel for you and are thanking God that those days are over.” I laugh every time I repeat The Walmart Story–my kids plug their ears.)))

Anyway, my new Walmart story, snark aside, is the one I want to tell you. This is the one I want to remember–the one that I want you to remember. Do you know what the antonym for racism is? Online, they say it’s “fairness” or “tolerance.” I have a hard time with those word choices. Tolerance? You mean skin color should be tolerated? Doesn’t seem enough, does it?

We were in the check out lane. A man was ahead of us. He looked back and glimpsed my kids. His last item rang up and the cashier gave him the total. “Is it too late to add more?” he asked. “Kids, pick out a candy bar, quick! I want to buy you a candy bar.” He looked to me. “Is that okay?”

My kids were bewildered. I nudged them along. “Go ahead, choose.” I thanked the man. So did my kids. “You are so generous…”

“My son died.” he said. “Last November…and I…this is how I show love.” He choked the words out. Could barely articulate his meaning.

But I heard him. Loud and clear. He hadn’t stopped loving his son, but his son was no longer present to love. It was pouring out of him in grief, tears, and an offer to other people. He had to do something. He had to give and let us know, he too, had a boy he’d loved and loved still. His love had to do something, go somewhere or he’d burst.

He could have just been pleasant. Said hello. I mean, isn’t that how we behave on a day-to-day basis? Instead, he made a memory. Gave an outlet to his abundance. This wasn’t just “tolerating” the humans behind him in the check out, or being merely being “fair”: it was my turn, now it’s yours.

I think I’ve found my antonym. I think it’s an antonym for many unpleasant words. As we raise our kiddos to know the love of Christ, may it be paired with go, do, and give.

God bless,

Ann

Luke 6:38 “Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”