Today, insights on living from two anonymous elderly women. The first, a woman I met months ago at Target. The second, a woman I met four days ago at Cub Foods. I wondered and ruminated over the first encounter for months, but it only made sense in the context of the second. Some learnings take months, even years to unfold. Had not my heart and eyes been open, this story, this lesson, would not be.

It was spring. I entered Target, baby heavy in the infant carrier wrapped around my elbow. It was no usual day. Yes, the week had been hard. There were things happening I didn’t understand. Things that made me cry, things that made me want to hide in a bubble, things that weren’t working. I had come to Target with a heavy heart, misunderstood, humbled, quieted. I wanted things right with the world again.

I walked to the string of carts just inside the door, like any other day. I noticed an elderly woman getting a cart in front of me, cane transferred from hand to cart. Baby and carrier in my left hand, I pulled at a cart to loosen it from the string of others. Got it. Started moving it forward and slightly to the right, but realized the front wheel of my cart had hit this elderly lady’s foot.

Shocked my sense of body space had failed, “I’m so sorry ma’am, I didn’t see your foot there,” I said.

“Didn’t you see ME there?” said this elderly woman in a tone shaming to my ears.

“I’m really so sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to do it, I didn’t realize I was so close to you.” I pleaded, on the verge of tears.

“You don’t have to be so cross with me,” she said. “You look so cross.”

Knowing in my heart I had been misunderstood, I apologized again, trying with all sincerity to make her understand I was NOT cross, but was very sorry for this mishap. To this day, I’m confident she did not understand, did not believe what I had to say. She thought I was cross and that I was a rude young woman in a hurry. As she departed, I wanted so desperately to chase after this woman and explain my heart away until she understood it all. But I didn’t. I just milled and milled, then finally had to talk about it with someone because this had cut to my core.

I spent the last seven months trying to make sense and make good of this incident. Out and about, I took time to really see seniors, acknowledge them, engage them in conversation. Maybe I just needed my eyes opened to the elderly, I told myself.

And then there was Saturday when all the pieces came together.

An elderly lady appeared from behind as I paid. I wasn’t expecting to meet this saint of a woman in the checkout line at Cub Foods. Warm, inviting jewel tones, pink lipstick, silver white hair, an unforgettable smile, and kind eyes that had seen much. She noted the cashier’s light, asking “Are you supposed to be closed? I see you turned your light off since I got in line.” Young man explained he was going on break once we were through. Elderly lady exclaimed “Oh good, you really need a break to take care of yourself. Good for you.”

She turned towards my children who were obediently packing bags of food as I had asked, smiled at them, then at me. I saw her notice and was intrigued by this woman. I felt comfortable to share I was proud because they stayed up really late at a sleepover the night prior and could be behaving much worse considering it was almost bedtime. As she passed with her two or three items, she so sweetly commented to my children, “I would be much worse off if I stayed up that late! You two are doing very well helping your mom. You have a great night.”

Sweet. Kind. Compassionate. Full of grace. A woman that notices, a woman that takes time to look deeper into the hearts of others. Not to mention as beautiful and poised as a woman could ever be. That’s who this elderly woman was and I was honored to have met her even for just a couple minutes.

And this time? This time, I wanted to chase after the woman and tell her how wonderful she was and how she was full of such grace and beauty, and how I admired everything about her in just a couple minutes of experiencing who she was. But I didn’t. I sat with it and thought how stupid it was to have left my camera at home and reveled in how magnificent this encounter had been, how it so strongly contrasted with my experience at Target months ago.

And so it is. We have a choice about how we will be in this world. We can fill others’ carts or empty them. We can choose to be a victim, leaving others feeling unsure, as if they failed or did something wrong. Or we can choose to be a warm, lovely ray of hope in this world, encouraging, noticing and loving others, and always full of grace.

May the elderly woman at Target experience acknowledgment and love from those in her circles, and may the elderly woman at Cub Foods continue to bring joy into others’ lives just as she did for me that day.

As for me, I need to surround myself with people that build me up, care for me, and love me for who I am.  May I not live life as a stressed out victim, but with grace and peace and love and joy, so others may see the light in me.

You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.  Matthew 5:14-16

Amy

It’s a joy to introduce you to sweet Cynthia who unknowingly forever altered my view of “sugar and spice and everything nice!”

It was just four days from the start of the new school year for the kids. My husband planned a special trip to an amusement park with my son, so I planned a trip to the Mall of America for some fun at Nickelodeon Universe with my baby daughter, older daughter, and my daughter’s friend. Before we even left the house, the girls had determined it was crucial they wear their matching dresses. Purple dresses, energy, and all, we enjoyed a whole day at the mall – rides, lunch in the food court, a little shopping (we picked up some purple boots so they could be matching from head to toe, of course), rides, poses with characters, a snack, rides, a few bathroom breaks, and more rides!

Then we met Cynthia. We were eating dinner in the food court and she approached our table. As she quietly cleaned up the mess on the floor around us, she so sweetly complimented the girls on their matching dresses. “You girls are all dressed up so pretty!” Cynthia said. She noted their boots, and my daughter told Cynthia the whole story about how she had just bought the boots today in the mall. The girls smiled and giggled a bit, all cute and sweet.

Then Cynthia said “You girls sure are sugar and spice and everything nice, and make sure you keep it that way, alright?” As Cynthia walked away, one of the girls said playfully but assuredly “no way!” Both girls started giggling, looking towards Cynthia who was already at a distance.

As I watched Cynthia, thinking what a nice and sweet woman she was, what a delightful blessing she had been to me and the girls, already sensing I might want to blog about this interaction, I realized the girls were getting a little out of hand with their chocolate chip cookies. And suddenly, the sugar and nice had become a lot more spice!

Even the baby knew there was fun to be had!

Yes, she was somewhere under all of that love!

It wasn’t until after the cookie incident I realized that in those moments, I let all of the sugar and nice in me just wash away. I let the girls be girls. I let them be silly, I let them be goofy, I let them be themselves, and it was fun. I didn’t worry about what all of the people thought at the tables around us, I didn’t worry if they thought I was a perfect mom or not. The girls proved they have a little spice in them, and I did too by letting the girls just be. It was good, and it maybe even necessary to fully live in that moment.

How often am I just too sugary, too nice?  I worry about making a good impression, I worry about things being perfect, I let things get to me, I want to do it right, I don’t want anyone to think bad things about me or my children, I want to raise my children right and live right! My heart wants to do it all just right, but my brain knows that meeting all of those criteria and living up to those standards is impossible. Things will never be perfect and often there are no clear answers. Sometimes, perhaps most of the time, others’ impressions of me really don’t matter. Not everybody is going to like me, understand me, or agree with me. And my children? Well, there is no set formula, and I can help re-package their little lives in sugar and nice over and over again, but they will still make mistakes and fail, just like me. In fact, it’s only by the grace of God that any of us make anything of ourselves. Our lives are not a direct result of doing or performing in some particular way, some prepackaged sugary and nice way of living, do it this way and you’ll get this result.

In fact, it is when we step out of the box and add a little spice to our lives, that we fully live.

Reflecting on that moment with the girls, I wonder if it is all a matter of the heart. If I trust that God made me in His image, then I am free to be ALL He created me to be, the sugar, the nice, AND the spice. While I of course want to parent responsibly and develop human beings to the very best of my ability, I also want to entrust them to God and free my children to be ALL they were created to be, not just the prepackaged sugar and nice box of unattainable perfection.

Thank you Cynthia, for being an angel in that moment. You helped me realize that sugar and spice and everything nice isn’t just about the sugar and nice. Sometimes it’s about the spice too.

For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving. 1 Timothy 4:4

Amy

It is my privilege to introduce you to Mick! My encounter with Mick was truly extraordinary in that he managed to capture my attention like no other store employee has been able. In fact, Mick exhibits qualities so exemplary that if we all lived as he does, the world would be a much better place.

Strolling through the Mall of America with my mom, sister, niece, and three children, we passed a toy store called Air Traffic. My son and I were last to pass the store, so everyone else in our party was far ahead when my son pulled me back abruptly to go into the store. I quickly called out and suggested they join us.

We were greeted with a warm welcome by the employees, one being Mick. I answered Mick’s inquiry as to how I was doing today with some generic, in a hurry to get out of this store kind of answer like “just fine, thank you!” (Remember Meet Dan? Clearly I had NOT fully learned my lesson about engaging people authentically around the question “How are you doing?!”) This was when Mick first caught my attention, questioning “Aren’t you going to ask how I am?” Smiling sheepishly, I responded “How are you doing today?” He responded, satisfied I thought, that he reminded me to be more fully present that moment.

An employee engaged me and my two oldest children in a game of Blue Orange Chef Cuckoo! and we headed to the back of the store where my son had discovered a plethora of yo-yos.

See, the reason I decided to go into the store that day was because my son showed such strong interest in the toys. He loves fishing, golfing, balls, Nerf dart guns, and screen time aplenty, but through the years we have had a challenge finding toys that keep his interest. When he was four it was Transformers, kindergarten Pokemon cards, first grade Bakugan, second and third grade baseball cards, and spatterings of interest in legos through the years. We just wanted him to love and have fun with toys. A couple months prior, a yo-yo master’s performance at our childrens’ school wowed our son to the extent that he and other boys purchased trick yo-yos. He had a very strong interest in yo-yos, but also had very low tolerance when the yo-yo did not perform as expected. It had become disconcerting to us as parents to know he was so interested in yo-yos, but was on the other hand getting so extremely frustrated every time he tried. So many times he had tried that yo-yo only to throw it down and quit in frustration because it “wasn’t working.”

Mick approached. I explained to him we were interested in looking more closely at yo-yos because of my son’s strong interest and frustration with his yo-yo.

Mick took time to ask if I was mom or sister of my three kids. Although on my way to 40 and an old soul, I have passed for a teenager countless times the past 15 years. I am used to people thinking I am much younger than I am, but am typically offended because I desire the respect that comes with being perceived as the full-fledged adult that I am. In any case, it was honorable for him to ask if I was mom or sister, a truly unique way of inquiring about my age and relationship to my children!

Mick picked a couple yo-yos off the shelf and put one on the counter next to my daughter. He asked if she wanted to try, stating “I’m going to put one here in case you decide you want to have some fun!” My daughter silently rejected his offer and left the yo-yo right where he had placed it on the counter. Mick observed and said a matter-of-fact “It’s ok, some people don’t want to have fun.” Many talk about enjoyment of life as a choice, this man lived it out in that moment. Choose to have fun, or choose not to have fun. It’s your choice.

Committing to us much more time than necessary, Mick showed us a variety of yo-yos, demonstrating tricks with each one. The store carried the yo-yo my son had; Mick suggested a yo-yo that would be more appropriate for a beginner but would still allow him to do tricks. At the sales counter Mick greeted my sister, complimented her tattoo, and shared with us information about upcoming yo-yo classes as well as a yo-yo championship at the mall the next day.

After purchasing the yo-yo, we left the store and my son immediately took the yo-yo out of its packaging. He spent the next hour trying it out, attempting a few tricks Mick showed us in the store, but quickly became frustrated to the point he felt confident it needed to be returned right now!

Disappointed this wasn’t going to work, I reluctantly returned to the store, son and yo-yo in hand. I found Mick, explained the yo-yo just wasn’t working out as my son expected, and that it looked like we were going to have to return it. Mick caught my attention again, this time even more dramatically by putting the problem back on himself. “Oh it’s my fault. I forgot to show you how to tighten and loosen the string. If we do this, then it should work a lot better for you.” Mick made some “adjustments” and tested the yo-yo to ensure it was indeed working properly, but my son persisted it needed to be returned.

Resigned to the fact this yo-yo “needed” to be returned, Mick and I met at the counter and he began processing the return. Another employee noticed we were back so soon and wondered why we had to return the yo-yo. Holding back tears of disappointment that my son was once again crushing his own dream of learning to yo-yo, I was taken aback when Mick responded nonchalantly to his co-worker, “Yep, it didn’t work out for him today.” I just LOVED the way this man so casually stated the yo-yo didn’t work out today. As if there were so many more activities to discover and become passionate about another day, as if the yo-yo didn’t work this day but might some other day, as if it was no big deal at all. No emotion attached, no worry, no cares, no judgement. It just didn’t work out today, that’s all. Wow, if I could only approach life like Mick, I wouldn’t be disappointed nearly as often and wouldn’t be so anxious about things turning out “right.”

That night, I told my husband the story of Mick and this yo-yo. I knew we had to return the next day for the yo-yo competition and check out the store one more time.

24-hours later, entire family in tow, we returned to the Mall of America to watch the Midwest Regional Yo-Yo Championship. Rotunda packed, yo-yo performances one after the next. Almost immediately, we happened upon Mick at a table of yo-yos. Brave with the opportunity, I approached, explained how he had impacted me so much the day before and asked if I could feature him on my blog. He agreed, but humbly explained that yo-yos just scratch the surface of who he is. He performs with a group called The Danger Committee. You know…he throws knives, juggles and throws a little fire in there for some extra fun! He suggested we should come and check it out sometime. I smiled, curious of course, but honestly having no clue as to what I would discover about this later.

We stepped to the back, observing the yo-yo masters perform. I couldn’t help but think…what if I adopted Mick’s philosophy of embracing what was and realized that for this moment in time, it was OK to just observe? I let myself relax a bit, observed my son as he watched the yo-yo masters. Maybe one day he will want to try yo-yos, but for today, it’s OK just to watch.

One more visit to the store, we picked up a cool frisbee which has caused enjoyment rather than frustration.

Two weeks later, I finally got around to checking The Danger Committee’s website to discover there was much more to Mick than met the eye. The Danger Committee, comprised of Mick and two others, has made multiple national television appearances including advancement to top 100 of 75,000 acts on NBC’s America’s Got Talent, and performs at theaters, festivals and corporate events around the country. Mick has been a performer and keynote speaker for two decades, speaking to hundreds of companies across the United States, Canada, Scotland, Ireland, and England. He has won or placed in international juggling competitions fifteen times. For Mick’s full bio, click here.

I had NO clue who I had encountered that day. I love Mick’s humility and the fact he didn’t brag about who he was beyond his employment at the toy store. I love his attention to the moment, his matter-of-fact attitude, kindness, his patience and passion, and the way he went above and beyond with us in the store that day. I have no idea what Mick speaks about, nor have I ever witnessed The Danger Committee’s performances, but based on everything I learned about Mick’s personal character that day, I have to believe it’s all phenomenal.

Thank you Mick. I am honored to have met you.

So in everything, do to others as you would have them do to you…” Matthew 7:12 

Amy

It is my pleasure to introduce you to Dan! The details of this interaction with Dan have very little to do with the fact that he is my pastor. In fact, this story tells of an extraordinary encounter with a fellow human being who pushed beyond the status quo.

I arrived at church late that Sunday morning, so I quietly seated myself at the back of the sanctuary, baby on floor sleeping in her car seat. I brought change and uncertainty with me that day.

I had been home on maternity leave with our third child. In just a week, I was set to return to work in my part-time private practice as a speech-language pathologist. I was already clinging to these last days at home, kids at school and alone with my baby girl, free of constant distraction and stress that work brings. I had been in the bubble of maternity leave, but what revelations and changes were to come when I embarked on the new normal as a part-time working mama with three children?

I knew for a while I was going to stop nursing the baby that day. I knew the third time around it was going to be better to complete the weaning process before returning to work. Pumping in my car in random parking lots didn’t sound enticing nor feasible with my work schedule, and I was eager to lose those extra 15 pounds of baby weight and wear my normal clothes again. I know some may believe this to be selfish, but with all three of my babies I had a love-hate relationship with nursing and had to give myself permission to do what felt right for me as a mother. So that morning at 3:00 a.m. I nursed my baby for the last time, quietly, together.

A church on the hill was opening doors that day. Every week on the way to church we passed this new church. The kids admired the beautiful building on the hill, begging to visit so they could go to Sunday school with children they knew attended, but we passed, traveling minutes beyond to our church. The dilemma had nothing to do with the church on the hill, for we had many connections with people there. As adults, the dilemma was that we LOVED our church, had found our home there, and had no intentions of leaving. We were spiritually fed, loved our pastors and the worship team, and felt a just right level of connection there. On this weekend, my husband and I had spent a tremendous amount of time debating where to go to church, leaving me in tears because it was such a confusing and important decision. We wanted to do what was right and best for our family as a whole. Should we attend the other church, opening day for the new building and an opportunity to insert ourselves into this new place, or should we pass by yet another week to our church, knowing the kids would see the cars in the lot? Knowing there was no perfect answer, we decided to delay the decision and wait for more clear direction. I would go to church with baby, and my husband would stay home with the two older kids. This was a solution for the moment.

After the service, Dan approached me asking “How are you doing?” I smiled, answering vaguely like “Oh fine, it’s been a little crazy. Just getting adjusted to life with three.” All the while, knowing he had hundreds of other people to greet besides me, thinking he was possibly just being polite because he noticed I was alone this week.

Dan proceeded deeper into conversation stating he noticed I hadn’t been tweeting as much since the birth of the baby. A pastor of a church this big noticed my tweeting pattern had reduced with the birth of our baby? My only response was to trust, because I had been tweeting less. Dan introduced me to a couple who was going to have their baby baptized the same day we were having our daughter baptized. Again, a pastor of a church this big remembered the date we were going to have our baby baptized, scheduled months later?

Conversation subsided and Dan turned to me again, asking a second time “So, how have you been doing?” Taken aback by his second rendering of the question, I answered, this time giving him more. I was going to be returning to work in a week, what the plans were for child care, how it had certainly been an adjustment to three but that our baby had been such an enormous blessing to our family and that we just love her so much. Eventually, our conversation wrapped up and we parted ways.

I could have shared more about how I was really doing, the changes I was about to experience balancing work and motherhood all over again, the debates we were having about church. It wouldn’t have been practical considering this was passing conversation after church. To be honest though, I didn’t feel at all deprived because in my recollection, nobody had EVER asked me how I was doing twice in one conversation.

So many questions came to mind in light of my encounter with Dan…

What was it that made Dan ask me how I was doing not once, but TWICE?

Why is it that I assumed Dan needed to talk to other people more than me? Why did I not believe it was me he wanted to talk to that day?

Why has this culture reinforced “Hi, how are you?” “Fine, how are you?” so much that I assume people don’t want to hear my real answer to that question anymore?

When was the last time I slowed down, really asked someone “How are you doing?,” and was sincerely open to hear the answer?

When was the last time I responded genuinely to somebody that asked me “How are you doing?”

Thank you Dan for asking how I was doing in a way that made me feel you genuinely wanted to hear my answer. Because of your model, I now challenge myself to give a sincere answer when necessary, even if it means admitting “I’m not doing very well today” or “Actually, I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed lately,” opening space for more authentic dialogue, connection, and truth.

“No one should seek their own good, but the good of others.” 1 Corinthians 10:24

Amy