He almost mowed me over with his battery operated shopping cart. He was maybe 82 years old, frail, and alone. "Excuse me, mam, do you know where the vienna sausages are?" He pronounced vienna like vie-enna, slow and totally wrong.
I finally found his eyes behind the thick frames. "No, sir, I don't have a clue." And it was the pure truth. Ever since our grocery store did the fancy-pants makeover, I have felt totally lost while hypertension has threatened to consume me every time I enter the doors.
Now, I will admit, the first thing that ran through my good-girl-Christian mind was that I could certainly help him find those blasted vie-enna sausages. But, fatigue won out. I had been at church from 7:30-12:30, received horrible news from a friend, still had to grocery shop and later fix some things for a cookout.
The flesh often wins in this battle called life.
So, I breathed easier as he motorized himself down the wider-now aisles thanks to the renovations that I am still bittersweet about.
And then, wouldn't you know it: I went over a couple of aisles and came face to face with my worst meat farce of a nightmare: vie-enna sausages.
Rats, I whispered to the Holy Spirit. Now, I know I have to go track this feeble man down.
I ran into him three aisles over. "Um, excuse me sir, but I found your vienna sausages. If you'll follow me, I'll be happy to take you to them."
He looked at me as if he had never seen me in his life. And then a little light flickered and he powered up his ride, following me to his beloved sausages.
I led him to the location and then realized I would need to help him get them down. Apparently keeping vienna sausages on the middle-catch-your-eye attention level wasn't working so well for the grocery marketers of the world.
"I like Libby brand the best. I'll take two."
I put the small cans of meat in his buggy and told him to have a great day.
I wheeled myself away and then it hit me hard.
He was alone on Father's day. In a grocery store. Buying small cans of blended meat product.
What was his story? Did he have children? Were they in town? Did they care???
Why did he only get two cans of meat? Why this kind of meat? Is it all he can afford???
Questions ran through my mind and I was struck with why Jesus was always willing to stop and help the one person.
He knew their stories ran deep. He knew he could offer a listening ear and redemption.
Tears came easily and I thanked Jesus for the joy that consumed my heart in being able to help one single elderly man find two tiny cans of vie-enna sausages on a lonely Father's Day.
Will you stop today for just one?
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