Humbled. In a Grocery Store.

I like to think that I am not easily "thrown".

You know,

thrown into a tizzy,

a fit of rage,

a bad mood.

But in one weekend,

two visits to different grocery stores exposed just how easily I can trade 

my peace,

my mood,

my sanity.

And for very little.

It is not like I witnessed a crime

or a social injustice.

Nope.

I just got stuck behind a bunch of people in line for a wine tasting at Whole Foods when I was trying to get some soup for my sick Ellie.

I wanted a quick in and out.

But everyone was having a great festive time tasting wine

all pushing empty carts which took up the entire width of 
every aisle I attempted to walk down.

Fru.Strating.

I crashed into the back of one woman who decided to stop pushing her empty cart quite suddenly in the middle of an aisle.

I didn't even say sorry or oops.

I just sighed loudly and
kinda shoved myself off of her.

Not super proud of that.

But that wasn't my worst moment of the weekend.

(She said in a very shameful whisper with her head on the table.)

Sunday after church, Monte dropped me off in front of a grocery store so I could pick up some doughnuts for my daughter's bible study that meets before school on Monday mornings.

Let's just pick out a few important points:

•I had just been to church where I got to help a friend teach Sunday school to a group of lovely well-behaved children. We watched a video about Jesus in the garden in Gethsemane and, 

much to my delight, John Boy Walton was the voice of Mark.

I LOVED The Waltons.

•I was getting doughnuts for my daughter's BIBLE STUDY.

It was cheek-slapping cold and my new black wedge boots were really hurting my feet.

Just sayin'…

The doughnuts were pretty picked over but I started the business of loading up a box with what I could find in the case.

I felt the presence of someone THISCLOSE to me.

I glanced over to see a red headed version of a Duck Dynasty employee, complete with camo attire.

You most certainly don't see that in our neck of the woods like, EVER.

He kept moving in closer clearly trying to get to the same exact doughnuts that I was currently holding and planning to hold.

Like the Hoosier basketball player that I was raised to be,

I boxed out.

In other words, 

I squatted a teence,

stuck out my behind,

and blocked my possessions like the championship depended on it.

It was just like this except with
a large purse over my shoulder
and wearing painful black
wedge boots.

"Red"neck mister didn't enjoy this one bit.

Just then, Monte walked up.

I turned enough that my big Mary Poppinsesque purse 

tipped the box of doughnuts off the counter. 

All but two landed on the floor.

Ol' "red" had some snarky comments about that turn of events

but I held my post like it was my JOB.

Monte picked up the mess (and gave me the stink eye) 

while I kept loading up doughnuts and boxing out mister red beard.

I actually pictured myself giving him a swift right hook to the throat as I screamed,

"These doughnuts are for Jesus!"

It wasn't funny at the time

because I was shaking with rage.

Over doughnuts.

My red head bearded nemesis finally grumbled loudly and stomped off.

Although I wanted to celebrate my victory,

I was too busy trembling with ridiculous.

Monte was looking at me like,

"Really?? THAT guy?!"

Humbled. 

In a grocery store.

So I am not going to claim that I am not easily thrown anymore.


I read this morning in Romans 7:14-16 . I love how The Message phrases it:

^14-16 I can anticipate the response that is coming: “I know that all God’s commands are spiritual, but I’m not. Isn’t this also your experience?” Yes. I’m full of myself—after all, I’ve spent a long time in sin’s prison. What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.

Oh my, is God's command necessary.

Very, 

VERY

necessary.

Because grocery stores bring out my ugly.

And doughnuts make me downright violent.