Well, today was the perfect opportunity to put what I’m learning into practice! Don’t misunderstand the tone…it’s not an excited one. I wasn’t necessarily hoping for such an opportunity. Opportunities would be more accurate.
Today was uncomfortable. It was frustrating. It was downright ugly at times.
It started off well. My peaches and cream oatmeal tasted crazy good. So sweet I felt I was cheating. Was I? I’m not really sure. Breakfast cereals these days seem to be so lacking in nutrition and yet so loaded with sugar that its hard to distinguish them from dessert.
Tomorrow’s menu boasts a guilt-free bowl of branflakes.
My sister and I decided to take the kids on a few errands…Walmart, Oriental Mart, Hobby Lobby. Side note: Hobby Lobby rocks my brocade-loving, jewelry-making, craft-crazy, decorating-happy little world.
I felt as though I was having a great-parenting day. I was getting down to her level, eye-to-eye, when correcting her, I was being patient, gracious, calm and consistent. Apparently, a little cocky too.
The morning was going swimmingly…until the tree fell.
The girls were getting hungry and tired, Ali was having trouble following instruction…after running up and down the aisles at the Oriental Mart, falling against a wire shelf leaving angry red stripes across her belly, she tripped over a wire up on the Christmas tree platform at Hobby Lobby {note: the tree platform that she wasn’t supposed to be on}, taking a sparkly little tree down with her…I started to get mean.
After some whining and crying in the store and a minor performance at the check-out counter, we left…needing to make one final stop on the way home. The kids stayed in the car with Becks while I ran in.
Once we were on our way again, all chaos broke loose. Mind you, it’s 1:00pm. The great mother mentioned above would have taken this into account before swinging around from the drivers seat and smacking her daughter on the thigh in a last ditch effort to get her attention.
Yup. Nice, eh? That’s quality parenting for you.
After a few minutes of weeping and gnashing of teeth, reality sunk in. For me, not her. I had gotten progressively less, um…pleasant…throughout the trip. I knew this had the potential to be a learning opportunity for both of us. It just took a little pride-swallowing to make it that.
Something my parents did often when I was younger, that had a profound impact on my influential little life, was apologize to us when they were wrong. While this wasn’t my first time apologizing to her, each time I do, my pride is freshly stung and my heart newly reminded of the power of this precious encounter. All was well again.
Until I checked my email.
Nutshell version: misunderstanding between a client and I…she had apparently been waiting for me to complete a job I was told in passing about 3 weeks ago…under the assumption that she had given me the information…only to discover today, upon reading her abrupt email, that she wanted it by tomorrow night and would pay me {less than quoted} upon delivery. I was immediately offended, my pride wounded at the thought of my reputation being tarnished {they must think I’m a total slacker!}, insulted at the drop in payment…feeling very in need of an apology. Even after a quick phone call to clarify that I had indeed not received the info, I still felt frustrated, having not received the apology I felt I was owed. With a busy afternoon ahead, and an even busier day lined up tomorrow, I somehow needed to find a way to complete this {stupid} job. {insert grunt here}. I was insulted and mad.
Then a scripture I had read yesterday came to mind…“Fools have short fuses and explode all too quickly; the prudent quietly shrug off insults” {Proverbs 12:16}
I repeated this to myself as a mantra while I bitterly started working on the job. And then it hit me. I LOVE what I do, and by being a sour-puss, I was not only going to make less moola on the job, but was robbing myself of the joy in the design process. I had a choice to make. I could either let it go and enjoy the process, or continue being a bitter mess. After all, I was the only one suffering. My client was oblivious to the ridiculous pity party I was having on my end…after all, she wasn’t invited.
Talk about a heart check.
I loved working on the projects and even got an unexpected phone call, complete with apology, from her in the midst of working on them. There…much better. It’s all about attitude isn’t it? Chuck Swindoll says that the quality of our lives are only 10% what happens to us…and 90% about how we handle it. So true. All was well again.
Until the lady at Meijer tried to do her job.
After Ali’s Tiny Tumblers class this evening, we decided to swing by Meijer and pick up some bottles of wine for our family Thanksgiving this Thursday. Seeing my hubby was with me and this was going to be a quick in-and-out trip, I left my purse in the car. That thing is heavy. While checking out I placed the 3 bottles of wine on the scanner. Usual alcohol dance…please wait…lady approaches wanting to see ID before we can proceed. Seeing Joe had his wallet and was going to pay, I stepped back so he could show his ID and we could get the show on the road. Dinner was waiting at home and we wanted to move quickly. She wanted to see my ID as well. Why on earth? He’s buying…not me, besides…do I look like I’m 18 with these 2 kids in the cart?!? She refused to ring us up until she saw my ID too. I was so indignant I wanted to speak to a manager. But for some reason my stern request didn’t change the law. {You would think the wife of a cop would know these things!}…I had touched the bottles and now my age needed to be confirmed.
I was seething as I stomped out to the car, muttering unpleasant words under my breath. I’m constantly shocked at how quickly one can plummet from happy to furious when challenged, delayed when in a hurry, or offended.
Upon returning with my wallet, I marched up to the lady, didn’t even make eye contact…stood there with this dejected look on my face, and then walked away.
And then it hit me. She was just doing her job, it was I who was being unbelievable. I was being one of “those” customers…the type I would dread having contact with if I was in her position. I was so embarrassed by my behavior I wanted the ground to swallow me up. Even my husband was quietly mortified by my performance.
I knew what I needed to do, and felt sick to my stomach.
It’s amazing. Every ounce of anger and indignant pride that had been weighing me down melted with one simple action…I gently touched her arm and, for the second time today, had the opportunity to swallow my pride and say “I’m so sorry”.
Talk about a humbling day.
Good. Hard. Raw. Redemptive.
While it hasn’t been a shining success story of a day…it has offered a powerful learning curve, with the sweet flavor of forgiveness.
I have a long way to go, this I know. But I’m stunningly aware of the grace and the tender touch of the hand that carries, one that won’t give up on me until this journey comes to an end.
I’m thankful that the joy lies not only in the destination, but it the journey itself.
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