grace

I left the house today without my son for only the second time since he was born. I had to run to UPS and get my CCM mail, pick up some fruit and veggies at the store, and the stop by the gym to renew my membership. I handed Cohen to Shawn, who was awake by still in bed. "He's fed and clean, just really awake and wanting to be held," I offered as I laid him down next to his dad. Shawn pulled him close. Cohen kept kicking and cooing. (code for gas and happiness) "I won't be long," I said, "maybe 40 minutes." Shawn nodded, "Go babe..its fine." Before I made it out the bedroom door, I had almost decided to take him with me. "I can take him, if you want...?" "Its fine, go," Shawn repeated.

So I went. I felt free as a bird for the first 30 seconds. Then I realized I already missed Cohen. I hoped out loud he wasn't crying and then in the back of my mind hoped he was desperately missing me. WIth motherhood come some very complicated emotions.

I turned the radio on and up. (sometime my own thoughts are louder than I want!) The other day I told Shawn, "hey now that I am a mom, I only have to wait until Cohen starts playing soccer and then I can start listening to Christian radio!" Shawn shot back, "like you don't already..." I laughed. Every time I get in the car, I flip on the local station...its true. We know lots of the DJs so I like to listen for people I know and I am always curious if any new music is actually getting played. It seldom is, so I listen through the old staples from my childhood...DC Talk, Steven Curtis Chapman and inevtiably, "Flood" by Jars of Clay.

(I should state that in the music industry, its commonly known that all Christian radio is geared at a certain audience often called "Becky"...the audience is conservative soccer moms in their 30s..and for some reason, radio peeps think that 30 year old soccer moms don't like new or progressive music, which is why you don't hear much new or progressive music on the radio. I, however, think radio underestimates the listener...my own soccer mom, who is approaching 50, likes very cool music like U2, Dave Matthews, John Mayer and would love to hear some of the great new Christian music as well...anyway..tangent)

So I turned the radio on and up. They played a clip of the new "encouraging" music the station is known for...Steven, a song from Nichole Nordeman's first album, and Jars of Clay. I smiled to myself. Typical. The drive from our house to the UPS/groccery store is only a few miles. I turned in just as the music began again. It was a song that I have heard a million times now and grown tired of called "grace". I was just about to sigh in that why-don't-they-ever-play-new-music-like-beth-or-shawn-on-here kind of way when a man standing just outside the Safeway caught my attention.

His overweight frame was slightly slumped to one side. His clothes were dirty enough that it looked like they could "get up and walk away on their own" as my mom would say. Cars were backed up waiting for parking spaces affording me enough time to really look. His turned his face toward me. It was worn and dirty bearing the marks of a harder than life. His left eye was permanently fixed toward the ground and he was holding a sign that read simply "homeless pleas help".

That misspelled 'pleas' tugged on my heart. I don't know why. I mean, we live in Seattle. I see homeless people all the time...at many intersections, at the park, holding their signs and wearing their filthy clothes. I often try as hard as possible not to look...sometimes because they scare me and other times because I remember that I once heard some homeless people like being that way and actually make good money begging, and still other times because I believe there is a serious unfixable, flaw in the system that lets crazy, unstable people walk the streets.

But this time, as I looked, that song I no longer like sang the first line of its chorus over the situation: "there's only grace" and I felt my heart soften. I felt a tug in my heart to give the man some money. As I parked, I thought about it. I decided I would get $20 cash back after I purchased my grocceries and I would look him in the eye, and say something meaningful about Jesus to him too. I ran over some lines in my mind as I walked in and decided I should get him some hot food from the deli as well.

So I shopped quickly, filling my cart with all the fruits I had been craving, and got in line. When the girl asked me if I wanted cash back, I suddenly realized I had forgotten to get that hot food and had almost forgot the $20 too. I said yes, feeling ashamed, as if she knew that while thinking about my own belly I had forgotten to think about the obviously mental homeless guy out front.

I got my $20 and my paper groccery bags and looked outside. I didn't see him. I looked around a little more, practicing my words for him in my head. Still didn't see him. I went to my car and loaded the grocceries and got in. HE couldn't have gotten far, I thought to myself, and began driving around. I drove around the parking lot...not there. I crossed the street and drove around the Petco parking lot...not there either. I drove up and down the street...hmm...It occurred to me that maybe God wanted me to look for him and then tell him "I saw you earlier and was moved by you and wanted to find you to give you this. God loves you." That seemed right, so I kept driving. After I had exhausted the spots I know homeless people to usually hang out at, I started for home with my $20 bill in my lap.

I decided my baby was probably screaming his head off for me by this point (he wasn't) and I would have to do my other errands later. I turned the radio off and drove in silence. I felt disappointed. I saw Starbucks on the corner and decided to do the drive thru. I ordered Shawn his regular drink, patted myself on the back for being a nice wife, and sat in the line thinking about how I was using that homeless guy's $20 bill to buy coffee and felt guilty and then wondered why.

The line was long, as it can be around lunch time at Starbucks. I sat there, alone with my thoughts. I asked myself where the disappointment and guilt were coming from... my first knee-jerk reaction was that the disappointment was rooted in care for the man or maybe even God (didn't we all learn in Sunday School that the right answer is usually "God"? esp when you don't know the answer?) or better, both...and the guilt stemmed from having such a martyr heart.

Isn't it funny how we like to delude ourselves about who we really are? Sometimes at this point in my conversation with myself, I just turn the radio back up, satisified with a fakey answer, and go on with my day. Other times, I feel more honest. Today was an honest day.

I dug deeper...true, I did care about the man and God...but mixed in there too was a big helping of wanting to feel good about myself. I mean, who I am kidding? Somewhere between the pineapple and the baby spinach, I had forgotten entirely about the man! If the cashier girl hadn't asked, "did you want cash back?" I probably wouldn't have thought one more second about him or my good intentions.

Maybe it was a huge helping of wanting to feel good about myself mixed in with a little care about God and the homeless man with the lazy eye. And as for guilt, well I am no martyr. I felt guilty because deep down I knew about that self-centeredness all along.

I thought about that song..."there's only grace/ there's only love/ there's only mercy and believing its enough"...I don't know if I had ever listened to the words before even though I could have sung along if I had wanted to.

I would love to have pure intentions...motivation from God that isn't all tangled up in my human condition...but I do believe His grace is sufficient...enough for even this selfish, prideful, at times-self agrandizing new mom. And for that, on this rainy morning, I am deeply thankful.