Life Lessons From the Flower Aisle

This is a story about how I missed an opportunity to obey Jesus today. How I missed the chance to show a little love to someone who really needed it. I'm sharing because maybe someone out there can learn from my mistake. I don't want you to do what I did. I don't want you to miss your moment.

It all started on the flower aisle at Trader Joe's...

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You guys. Have you heard? It's peony season. I loooooooooooove peony season (I know, I'm so unique and original- it's not like every other girl on the planet loves it too).

I have been seeing the peony posts all over my Insta stories for a few weeks now, and it has caused a bad case of flower envy. I want peonies of my own! My dresser has never before looked so empty as it has for the past... well, 48 hours since I moved in. I have been meaning to stop by Trader Joe's to pick some up, and I just haven't made it that far. That is, I hadn't until today.

I woke up this morning and I knew this was my glory day. Today was the day I would march into TJ's, hand the cashier my $7.99, and waltz back out- my beloved bundle of peonies in hand.

Fast forward to this afternoon: There I stood before those big, beautiful buckets of pink blossoms, discerning which bunch looked the happiest, would last the longest, and essentially, would bring the most joy to my life. And that's when I heard it.

THE TODDLER TANTRUM.

We're all familiar with it. Most of the time, people try to continue about their business, avoiding eye contact with the mom while exchanging knowing glances and eye rolls with other strangers nearby. But this was a toddler tantrum unlike I've ever heard. The kid was holding that high note at a decibel that would put Beyonce to shame.

Mind you, Trader Joe's is not a huge store, so you have to understand that everyone in the place was witnessing the emotional breakdown of this howling two-year-old. I caught a glimpse of the mom's face and she looked mortified. If I'm not mistaken, I think she was actually melting from the heat of the public embarrassment she was experiencing at the hands of her offspring.

Meanwhile, the judge-y looks and passive-aggressive comments continued. The cashier laughed and made some comment about how it's funny when it's not your kid. The older couple behind me muttered about how they would never let their child... and how much good a spanking might do.

All the while, I felt this little tug in my heart to walk over and give that mama my flowers. After all, she was clearly having a hard day and needed them more than I did.

And that's when the excuses began: But I've been waiting for these for days! My empty dresser... it's not like I have extra money to throw away right now, so I probably wouldn't buy myself another bunch. Besides, everybody's looking. It would probably attract more attention, and I'm sure more attention is the last thing that lady wants right now.

So I walked out. All the way through the parking lot, I argued with myself. It would be awkward to turn around and walk back in. I climbed in my car. I already left the store; now it would really make a scene if I went back. I got on the freeway. Now I was too far. Maybe she had reached boiling point by now anyway; she had probably given up and left. I was nearly home. As I sat on my off-ramp, waiting for the light to change, I looked up directions to get back to the store: 6 minutes.

I just couldn't shake the feeling that that mama needed those flowers so much more than I did. I couldn't push the picture out of my mind of her standing there on that white tile stage, fluorescent spotlights exposing what was not her most shining of moments to an audience that was all too eager to give its honest review of the performance.

I couldn't stop thinking about how alone she must feel. I felt so convicted of my selfishness: I couldn't give up 6 minutes and $7.99 for the chance to let that lady know that she's not alone in the world? To remind her to hang in there? To tell her she's a good mama and doing the most important job in the whole world in raising that little soul?

I pulled around back onto the on-ramp and drove the 6 minutes back to the store, imagining what I might say to her when I got there.

I just wanted her to know she was seen. Not watched. Seen.

I pulled back into a parking space right by the door and waited a few minutes. There was no sign of her or her little future American Idol. I walked into the store and scanned the aisles. They were nowhere to be found. Sometime during my 12-minute Jonah moment on the freeway, she had left. Maybe she had wrapped up her shopping and gone. Maybe she really did just give up and get the heck out of there. I have no idea.

But here's what I do know: I had the chance to love that lady today. And I didn't. I had the chance to meet her in a dark moment and remind her that she wasn't alone. But I didn't.

Now those peonies are sitting on my dresser. Two are blooming and 3 haven't opened yet. I suppose they're probably as beautiful now as when I picked them out 3 hours ago, but they don't hold quite the same joy now as they did then. Instead, they are filled with regret and the reminder that delayed obedience is disobedience. From here on out, when the Holy Spirit moves, may there be urgency in the way I jump to move with Him. Because if I dilly-dally again like I did today, I just might miss another chance to let someone know they're loved.

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Dear Mama in Trader Joe's Today (and all the mamas she represents, just out there doing your best to raise your little people to be the best humans they can be),

I wish I could give you a hug. I just wanted to let you know that you are not alone. You are seen. I know this moment feels exasperating, frustrating, and maybe a little hopeless. But there is purpose in this season. I would bet anything you're an amazing mom who would go to the ends of the earth to provide for your little guy, contrary to what he led the entire store to believe this afternoon. His bad day became your bad day today, and I'm just really sorry you had a bad day.

If this season of endless talking about pointless things and singing silly songs in strange voices and explaining for the 8,000,000,000th time that it is not ok to flush mommy's shoes down the toilet is feeling at all purposeless to you, be encouraged: what you are doing matters. Your job of teaching that little soul to be kind and spread joy, of cheering him on in his dreams (and musical talents), of training him to work hard and play hard and treat girls with respect... that job is the most important thing you could possibly be doing right now. So keep on keepin' on, Mama. Keep your head held high and let them stare, knowing that you are doing the best you can, and that's the very best you can do.

Love Always,

Sammy

PS Sorry about the peonies.