My ‘91 Lexus just sputtered and lurched to a stop tonight…thankfully right in front of the local 7-11. My girls were with me; we’d just picked up a couple of pizzas and were about to take Olivia to a sleepover when the car said simply, “no.”
As we sat there waiting for Paul to come rescue us in the van, we watched dozens of people exiting the store with choice beverages. One caught my eye. He came out with his six pack of Heineken under his arm, and as he swung open his car door, a young man with bushy, curly brown hair called to him. In seconds, an exchange took place–a bill for a promise–and the man strode back into the store, paid for a case of Budweiser and made his way for the laughing, waiting teen.
I commented under my breath to the girls, then stepped out of the car.
“Excuse me,” I said.
The twenty-something guy turned to look at me for a couple of seconds. I nodded and walked toward him.
“Excuse me,” I repeated, now up close to his shoulder. Eye to eye, he smiled sideways at me expectantly. I smiled back.
“Did you just buy that for those dudes?”
He stared at me, unbelieving. I asked again,
“Did you just buy that–” nodding down at the beer “–for those guys?” I shut my mouth and waited as he looked down at me.
“Yeah…”
I made a gentle fist and pushed his arm with it like a teasing friend.
“That was wrong,” I said slowly, softly.
He blinked. Stared a second longer and started walking away.
“We’ve all been there,” he called back. “You’ve been there. You know you have.”
I stood where I was. Repeated in the same tone,
“It was wrong.”
He handed the beer to the kid, who quickly got into the red SUV with his buddies and closed the door. The man turned his blond head back to me and sang back as he walked around his car,
“You’ve been there. You know you have. Don’t be a hypocrite, now.”
I thought for a minute, then sang back, shaking my head,
“You know it was wrong, babe.”
“Don’t be a hypocrite.”
“Babe, you know it was wrong.”
It was the most civil conversation, really. I have no idea why I thought to call him ‘babe.’ I didn’t want to get on his case, I guess, and wanted to speak sweetly to him so he’d know I was on his side. I loved him, loved the teen boys, loved my girls…and because of that, I knew I had to make a statement about what I was seeing, and somehow hold it all accountable with the truth.
We both got into our cars. He shouted something I couldn’t hear and drove away; I was too busy locking the doors to listen.
My girls asked lots of questions about what had just happened and had me tell the story three times. We discussed how lots of people do lots of things, and its not our place to judge them, but it’s okay to step out and say the truth.
Glory be.
I pray it made a difference. I pray it affects some future decisions. I hope my girls remember it, and I pray it somehow gave them permission to go ahead and stand up for goodness’ sake when their time comes, ’cause in spite of how weird adrenaline feels when it’s pouring through in bucket loads, it felt good to do right. Too often wrong is being done without anyone mentioning it…and our world is worse off because of that.
It was so out of character for me to do that, it must have been the Lord!