The Story of a Long Afteroon, for Good Friday

It was a long afternoon about a week ago. We’d been at the park for over 3 hours and with dinner time quickly approaching, I realized we still needed to make a library stop and a grocery store run. The boys were covered head to toe in dirt and grime and they were exhausted from the day. In retrospect, I should have known better. . .

Upon entering the grocery store, I immediately realized this would be. . .work. “No, I’m sorry, they don’t have a car basket to ride in this time, you’ll have to ride in a regular basket.” “Big boys, stay close to me.” “Please stay in the basket.” “Please, don’t touch that.” “No cookies.” “No candy.” “I mean it. . .if you try to climb out of the basket again, you will be punished.” “Boys, settle down.” “No running in the store.” “No skipping in the store.” “No doing anything but walking in the store.” “Do not pick up another apple. . .”

Then, smack dab in the middle of the produce department, we met a sweet friend who wanted to visit. On any other day, really, I would have been up for a bit of adult conversation among the fruits and veggies. . .or luncheon meats and cheese. . .or dairy. . .or frozen foods. . .you name it! But not this day. With the few brain cells I still had working at the time, I could not find a polite way out. So, I stopped. The boys took this as the clear signal that Mommy is no longer paying attention to us and they conveniently forgot all of the regulatory standards I had previously set in place. Chaos. Disobedience. Total rebellion.

As I try to at least look like I’m hearing the words coming out of my friend’s mouth, the two older boys use me as a home base for tag and #3 decides it’s a good time to make his escape from the basket. Realizing that I am not able to hold any semblance of a conversation, my friend smiles kindly and puts her arms around me for an encouraging hug. At that point, my basket hits me from behind and the baby is dangling half of his body off the end of it. In total exasperation, I grab the running boys and bring them to a halt with their backs against the lettuces. #3 is placed squarely back on his bottom in the basket and he begins a fit of rage which sends my friend quite quickly away to find cover from the shrapnel.

If I had had the presence of mind, I would've made my way straight over to the pharmacy to have my blood pressure taken which almost certainly would have been so impressive that it would have earned me at least a one night “for observation” vacation at the hospital, complete with room service. But, I didn’t think of that. And so I stood there, in the produce, trying to gather my children and my wits as I mentally crossed off the list any non-essentials in an effort get the heck out of there ASAP.

Then, there was a hand on my shoulder.

I turn around, close to tears and still enduring the screams of the 2 year old. A diminutive elderly woman is standing there. She smiles. I try to muster one back. English is not her first language, but she somehow communicates to me that she would like to give my children lollipops. My children? Who mere moments before were running circles around me and trying to escape? The 3 same children who have disobeyed every single rule I have set before them since entering the grocery store? Are you kidding me? These children? One of whom is presently still screaming bloody murder? You want to give them lollipops? You want to reward this behavior? Really? They don't deserve it!

Then, the hand on my shoulder, became balm for my heart. At that moment, the Lord spoke the word “Mercy” to me through this woman’s gesture. She handed the candy to the boys, and there was immediate peace. I thanked her and she quietly walked away. No more crying. No more running. Just wide-eyed wonder and thankfulness.

My children, by no means, deserved even a lick of a lollipop that afternoon. And they knew it, too. They were as surprised as I was that someone would offer them a piece of candy in the midst of that behavior. They were equally as surprised as I was that I allowed them to accept it. But, that afternoon, we all learned “Mercy” through the homiletics of lollipops.

“God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8