Fostering Love

Another wonderful and beneficial Sunday service! Aaaahhhh. There is nothing like the presence of God to put the trials of life in their proper perspectives.

After making our way through the after-service crowd in the church atrium, Bob, Anna, TJ, and I head for the parking lot. Bob and I stand beside our cars discussing the trip home and our afternoon
plans. Relieved that there is no need to go to the store or get gas, we each turn toward our respective cars anticipating an easy 30 minute ride home and lunch. As I begin buckling TJ in her carseat I hear Anna shouting "I need to stop at the store!". As I turn to acknowledge her, she puts her hand to the side of her face so no one can see her mouth the words, "I need pads."

I latch the final carseat buckle and can hear Bob's truck leaving the parking lot. I kiss TJ on her forehead, shut her door, and call for Anna. As I open the driver's door I call out for her again and slide into the front seat. No Anna.

"She did not just do this to me! No she didn't!" With frustration dripping from every syllable, I slammed the palm of my hand in to the steering wheel, picked up the phone with my other hand and speed dialed Bob.

Not knowing the righteous indignation waiting for him on the other end of his phone, he answers quite calmly, "Hello."

"Is Anna with you?"

He knows the tone. "What's going on and yes she is here."

"She's with you!?! UNBELIEVABLE! She wants me to stop at the store, get out of my car with TJ in this 98 degree heat and get her things while she just pops in the truck with you and goes on her merry way! Well I'm not doing it!"

Bob pulls the phone away from his mouth and talks briefly with Anna. He gets back to me with the decision that we will all meet up in the drugstore parking lot. He will leave her with me, she can purchase her items and ride home with me. 'Fine' I say to myself, but wonder why isn't he waiting in the parking lot and why am I not the one who gets to go home.

At 15 Anna does not like to do any public thing by herself including shopping. There must be someone with her at all times, because, as is obvious to only her - and every other 15 year old girl - everyone stares at her.

"TJ, do want to go shopping with me?"

"No."

"I'll get you a drink."

"No."

"I'll buy you some candy." Anna is pleading with TJ to accompany her into the drugstore for her small purchase, but is clear that TJ would like to remain cool in the car.

"Anna," I say, "You will just have to do this on your own." She gives a heavy sigh, an audible groan, and shuts the door.

Suddenly, from the back seat an outburst! "I wanted to go with her! Why didn't you let me go!" In my calmest voice I reminded her that it was she who said 'no' and not I. "I did not!" she screams.

"Christina. You need to calm down or you will go to your room a soon as we get home," I say firmly.

"NO I WON'T! I WON'T GO TO MY ROOM!" and with that she begins her loudest scream and kicking the back of the seat in front of her.

I am angry. You don't yell, scream, or defy this Momma! In my anger I fumble to get out of the driver's seat, stomp around the back of the car to the passenger side of the back seat, swing open the back door in a fury, fumble again to get her out of the winding maze of buckles and latches, pull her out of the door and stand her on the pavement looking at me. Defiant, arms locked in front of her,eyes glaring. I square her shoulders toward me and in no uncertain terms say, "You can scream all you want out here! I will not have you screaming in my car!" With that I stomp back to the passenger side, throw open the door and fling myself into the seat.

In the right side mirror I see TJ untangle her arms, wipe her tears away on her fore arm, her nose on the sleeve of her dress and then entwine her arms again. She is going to remain defiant, but quiet.  Keeping my eye on her I watch her peer into the car to see if I was looking and then turn back around again. Soon she drops her arms and begins picking at her fingers, looking around the parking lot and waiting for Anna to leave the drugstore.

I take a deep breath, get out of the car and walk slowly over to her. "TJ. Screaming at me is very disrespectful. You don't always get to do what you want. What if Anna did that every time she didn't get her way?" She giggles at the thought.

"I'm sorry, Momma."

We hug. I buckle her back into her seat and by the time I finish Anna rejoins us.

"What's going on?" Anna asks.

"Just life," and I force a smile.

Another wonderful and beneficial Sunday service! There's nothing like the presence of God to put the trials of life in their proper perspectives