Had a painful little object lesson tonight. I was unzipping the girls’ lunch bags, so I could pack tomorrow’s lunches. A little background. My girls have never bought a school lunch. Not because I am Super Mom. Not because I am Healthy Mom. Not because I am Thrifty Mom. I don’t really know why. It’s just something I’ve always done. I pack their lunches and write them a note. I put the date on it, and the plan is that someday, they’ll look back at their notes and think, “Wow, Mom loved me.”
Okay, so I don’t usually put the notes in envelopes–takes too much time. Occasionally, I will though, and sadly, Ava’s usually come home un-opened. I always feel a little stab in my heart. “Don’t you read my notes?” “I usually do! But today I didn’t have time!” I get over it and move on.
Today I have PMS. It’s almost bedtime. I’m unzipping their lunch bags. Pull out Ava’s note. Envelope sealed. Sticker intact. “Ava? Do you ever read the notes I write you?” The look on her face says no. She hesitates. I raise my eyebrows. “I have to eat!” she says. “It takes too long to…” “You don’t read my notes, do you?” Hangs head. “No.”
She might as well have stomped on my heart.
Gabe heard the exchange from his desk. Called her over for a talk. She came and apologized. I was in tears. And so on and so forth. You don’t need to hear the whole sob story. We worked it all out. The ache is still there though.
And the object lesson–God wrote me a lot of notes too. A whole Book full. How many times do I leave them unopened in my lunch box? Sure, I’ll scarf down the granola bar and the cheetos and the leftover Halloween candy. And the yummy Mondo drink bottle-thingy. But I don’t have time for my Daddy’s note. Who cares? No big deal, right?
Except it is.
So…I met my guardian angel today. Well, not personally, but saw him in my rearview mirror. Long story short, I was at Easton (shopping center in my city). In the left northbound lane, getting ready to turn into Target in a bit. Someone pulled out of a parking lot to my left, crossed both southbound lanes, and KEPT COMING. Right into my lane. I slammed on my brakes. I mean, slammed. And swerved into the right lane. Didn’t even have time to honk my (unfriendly) horn. Life flashed before my eyes. (not really, but kind of)
Thank you, Jesus, that no one was beside me in the right lane. And that all the cars behind me slammed on their brakes before they hit me. The girl in the car just stared at me wide-eyed. Was she drunk? On drugs? I have no idea how she missed seeing me. I went around her, and she just sat there horizontally in my lane. I pulled into Target and couldn’t even get out of the car I was shaking so badly. I was all jittery and jumpy for the next hour. Ugh. It’s really a miracle no one got hurt or smashed or crashed. Wow. God is good.
I know I had something brilliant (or funny maybe?) to say, but it’s gone. Don’t forget to enter the give-away for The Fine Line. You have until Wednesday.
Have a Twinkly Tuesday!