POP!

It’s been unseasonably warm this year in Northern California. I almost, almost, feel guilty when I see the incredible pictures of the deep freeze happening across much of the rest of the country.

I wore a tank top the other day. I hadn’t planned on it exactly, but my light mustard yellow cardigan was just too warm to compete with the buttery sunshine melting on my shoulders. I wore the cardigan to my Bible study class, inconceivable to walk in brazenly bare shouldered there.

After class I enjoyed the very rare and unspeakably sweet opportunity to spend time alone with only one of my kids. Lovely four year old Lucy and I went to brunch. She wanted to sit next to me in the booth so we snuggled and chatted over a big, fluffy biscuit smothered in country gray, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns with ketchup. It was turning out to be a morning more magical than most.

Feeling full and abundantly blessed I decided to stop by every mom’s happiest place on earth: Target.

The warm red glow of the giant concentric circles emblazoning the tan warehouse seemed to wink at me. It seems even Target was not immune to the sweet seduction of an early spring. I easily load my happy preschooler into the shiny red cart in the cart-port I had easily parked next to in my favorite part of the lot. It was even a perfect parking spot day!

Lucy and I sing as we leisurely stroll down the wide drive, cars glinting in the sunshine. I push her up the yellow bumpy part of the sidewalk and she squeals in delight.

How is it that I am so singularly blessed as to experience all this sunshiney joy this morning?!

I glance to the planter at my right. A young woman sits on it’s cold concrete edge, head hung heavy in her hands. A small baby girl with a smattering of dark fuzz on her tiny round head is sitting in the dull red cart, looking at me with wide naive eyes.

I wonder if she’s okay…

She’s probably fine. I remember needing to sit down after shopping when I was pregnant, feeling so utterly depleted I would need a rest before the last burst of energy required to pack up the car. It would probably embarrass her if I spoke to her.

Plus, this is my happy shiny morning! I’m surely entitled to one. Rarely do all the stars align so perfectly that I have only one kid with me. And not just any kid, my sweet and well behaved Lucy! Nothing is more important than this time with her. I continue to walk toward the beckoning automatic doors.

But I feel the tug somewhere in my gut pulling me back.

Maybe I’ll just turn around and walk back and ask her real quick, just to be sure it’s just because she’s pregnant and definitely doesn’t want my help.

No. No, I don’t want to. I don’t want to lose the shine of this moment which seems to quickly be turning matte in the presence of this woman. I’m going to look like a crazy person if I about-face here in front of the doors and go back. Even if she does need something it’s probably more than I have to offer. I don’t have any cash to give her. She looks a little rough around the edges. This would probably turn into a total time drain. I really have a lot to get done still.

I’m sorry God, but I just don’t want to. Forgive me and take away the guilt which is surely from the enemy. You give me the freedom to choose and I’m walking on. If I’m really meant to help her let her still be there when I leave.

So I walk into Target, the cool breeze of air conditioning rushing against my warm cheeks. Actively fighting the tug that pulls my soul back outside. Then in the buzzing of the barista, getting Lucy to the bathroom now, and shopping for all manner of whozzits, whatsits, and thneeds the warm fog of my blissful morning descends again.

By the time I leave heavy laden with plastic bags, I am buoyant. Skipping on the fluffly cloud high of having found not one but TWO amazing less-than-five-bucks one of a kind clearance finds! This is MY day and nothing is out of my reach!

I round the corner, and there sits the haggered young mom on the cold concrete planter box attempting to shade her baby girl from the sun’s harsh rays with the corner of a soft cloth infant carrier. I can almost hear an audible POP! in my mind as the shiny red balloon of my perfect day is pierced by the cold needle of this moment.

I try to look away, but the reality of that baby being so poorly shaded is too much for even me. Why doesn’t she just go inside with the air condidtioning?!

“Um, excuse me, are you okay?”

The young mom with the deep brown eyes looks up at me and I am alarmed to see them filling with tears. She chokes out in a kindly southern drawl, “You know, you are the FIRST person to ask me that all morning! Everyone else has just kept walking by. I locked my keys in my car and I don’t have a cell phone. I was finally able to get a hold of my dad but he’s from another country and wasn’t understanding what I needed. It was really frustrating. But he was able to get a hold of my husband and he’s on his way.”

The weight of shame and the expensive new cell phone tucked casually in my back pocket are almost more than I can bear. “Is there anything else you need? Can I go buy a snack for the baby? Do you want a ride?” My shiny, giant SUV loaded with booster seats and a top of the line baby carseat only 50 yards away in my favorite parking spot stand as a grotesque monument of my guilt.

“Oh no. I ran inside and got her something. I think she’s about to fall asleep now. I don’t want to wait inside and miss him driving through. He’s on his way, I don’t need a ride.”

“You’re sure?” I ask, nearly frantic to help and release the hard grip of regret holding my insides.

“Yeah. Thank you so much for asking me though. It was so nice of you to check on me. You were the only one.”

I smile at her and walk to my car, tail between my legs. Her kind words only making more obvious my betrayal.

A realization crashes down on me like a great tsunami, I am not the Samaritan. I am the Pharisee.

Lord, forgive me, a terrible sinner, for sometimes I know exactly what I am doing.

Check out the Parable of the Good Samaritan for yourself, read: Luke 10:25-37.