I don’t really know Jeri. In fact, the only reason I even know her name is Jeri is because I read her nametag while she was scanning my groceries. But I lied to her. I didn’t mean to, it just kinda rolled off my tongue. I mean, Jeri seemed nice enough…very genuine, big smile on her face, her white hair telling me that she probably had quite a few good stories to share. Nonetheless, I lied to her. Without even thinking about it.
Jeri seemed to be very intelligent. In fact, maybe she even knew I was lying. I guarantee that if she had seen me just 15 minutes prior, standing next to the cooler which housed the frozen peas, she definitely would have known. Who knows how she would have responded or how I would have been impacted or how her day would have changed. I’ll never know. Because I lied.
You see, while I was trying to retrieve the last few items of my carefully calculated grocery list, I got a text message. The kind of text message I could do without. Someone passed away. Someone whom I had known for several years through Joni and Friends. Someone who had been told only a month and a half ago that he had cancer. Someone who left behind a young adult with a traumatic brain injury, an amazingly mature and servant-hearted 18 year old and many other friends and family who already miss him desperately. And as strong and “put together” as I like to be…I started crying in the middle of the frozen foods department. Staring at my phone. Digging around in my overcrowded purse for a tissue. Texting a few close friends in an effort to make that “alone” feeling dissipate at least a little. Feeling mad and sad and helpless.
So when Jeri asked the obligatory “How are you today?” question as I took the last of my items out of the cart, I lied. I said “Just fine, thanks,” hoping that she wouldn’t look at me long enough to notice the tell tale signs that I had been crying. I wasn’t fine. I was far from fine. But who actually admits to that when they’re getting ready to pay for their groceries. Apparently, not me.
Here’s the problem…I have no idea how Jeri would have responded. She may have felt awkward that a complete stranger was honest about her feelings. Or she may have been able to offer some genuine words of encouragement that would have ministered to me. Perhaps, depending on her own story, she would have even been grateful for the opportunity to have a real conversation with someone…to encourage them, or to be encouraged. Who knows how it would have ended? I certainly don’t. Because I lied to Jeri.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not implying that we should flippantly offer intimate details of our life stories to complete strangers on a daily basis. In fact, I’ll go so far to say that I’m not assuming I made the wrong choice. Perhaps, in that situation, it was best for me to keep the details of my breakdown amidst the frozen veggies to myself. What makes me sad, is that I realized that even if Jeri had been someone I knew, I may very well have lied to them, too. Why? Because I’m prideful? Private? Or under the false sense that my job is to make sure everyone else is OK…not to actually accept the fact that sometimes I need other people to make sure that I’m OK? Yes. Yes. And yes.
Luckily, I have people. People that will call me out on it. People that tell me it’s OK to feel the emotions that I try so hard to hide from myself and from others. People that don’t pretend to have the answers or even the right words to say. People that I can be myself with…whether I’m feeling goofy, sassy, courageous or really ticked off that cancer can take someone’s life with just a month and a half notice. I’m grateful for those people. Everybody needs those kind of people. And I hope and pray that I can be that person for someone else. Whether a good friend or complete stranger…I hope that people get the vibe that I’m genuine…the kind of person that cares…the kind whose compassionate eyes and attentive ears communicate to others that their stories are important to me. You know…the kind of person Jesus was. I have a feeling that he was always ready to listen and empathize with those who were hurting. (Of course, I’m fairly certain that He had a way of calling people out when their negativity got the best of them…but that’s a different post).
So, Jeri, I’m sorry if I took something away from you in an effort to keep my emotions in check. Of course, if it was for the better, then I’m OK with that, too. At the very least, it gave me plenty to think about as I left the store with my cart containing, amongst other things, plenty of frozen vegetables.
EpicChurch
1 hour ago
