Disappoint Mints
Why art thou cast
down, O my soul?
and why art thou
disquieted within me?
hope thou in God:
for I shall yet praise
him,
who is the health of
my countenance, and my God.
— Psalm 42:11
She's an executive culinary
expediter and nutritional accounting executive. OK, she's a grocery-store cashier.
My favorite. She's always smiling, always pleasant. So I get in her line, even
if there's a wait. It's worth it.
She's easy-going and tactful. She
doesn't even blink as she rings up my purchases, usually in a logical order
such as this: Weight Watchers yogurt, Oreos, celery, ice cream, zero calorie
salad dressing, and a sack of Snickers (hey! at least they're mini's).
We solve the problems of the day:
Iraq, the price of gas, post-nasal drip. Along the way, we've figured out that
we're both mothers. But that hasn't really been our common ground. Until the
other day.
I was musing that she probably was a
really cool mom. So I decided to ask her a personal question:
"What was the best Mother's Day
present you ever got?"
That was easy! You could just tell.
Her face just glowed.
The story poured out:
"Well, last year, I had been having
some really bad problems with my son. I mean, I can't even tell you how bad it
got."
I figured he must be in his 20s. Based
on her tone, I imagined some serious stuff had gone down, like drugs or
arguments or problems with law enforcement.
She continued, "There were days
where I really didn't know how it was going to turn out - whether I'd ever see
him again. I was just so worried, and driving myself crazy wondering what I
could have done differently - how I could have kept him from getting in to some
of the things that were causing such problems."
I could tell it had been an enormous
burden - a trial that would make it so easy, so tempting, to sink into rebukes,
accusations, bitterness and disappointment - all the things we mothers try so
hard to avoid, but sometimes, come perilously close.
Her sunny smile popped back, bigger
than ever. "Then it was Mother's Day, and he showed up at my door at 8:30 in
the morning. Eight thirty! When was the last time I had seen the whites of his
eyes before noon? But there he was. And not only that - he was dressed for
church."
For church! This "bad boy" was going
to take his mama to church!
There was hope for him yet - to say
the least.
Turns out he had planned a whole day
with her. He took her to church and out to brunch, and then over to a historic
house that she had always wanted to tour. She loved the pampering.
And then out of his pocket came a
letter - a long, hand-written, heartfelt letter of love.
What did it say?
She looked up, as if picturing the
words; I could tell she'd read that letter a lot. "Oh, just that he was sorry
for all the trouble that he had put me through, but that he loved me very much,
and he was so glad that I never gave up on him, and he would try to do better
and make me proud of him."
Our eyes locked across the fudge
sauce and sack of carrots.
Twenty years had fallen off her
face. She was beaming. I beamed back.
"It was just so . . . refreshing,"
she said. "I can go a long time on that."
You and me both, Bud.
That's God. That's how He encourages
us. Another refreshing mint from the Breath of Life, at just the right time. He
knows when things are starting to go sour. He steps in, makes something happen,
and makes everything right again.
This Mother's Day, let's remember
that. Reflect on it. Rejoice over it!
One day, I'm going to be rung up by
the Great Cashier. I'll recognize Him, all right: I've already seen His smile.
I saw it on the face of a mom I know . . . a mom who loves her child enough to
never, ever give up. †
