Lessons learned thru the long trek home with 10 dozen eggs…
1) 10 dozen eggs appear to be light, but in carrying them about a mile they become heavy.
2) The weakest muscle in my body is definitely the “egg-carrying” muscle in my shoulders and neck.
It seemed a great idea in multi-tasking, why not walk to the grocery store and take advantage of the 10 for $10 sale on eggs? Exercise and bargain shopping all in one! The walk to the store was a refreshing way to start my day before work; the walk home proved to be quite different. I hadn’t even made it through the parking lot when a lady pulled over and asked if I needed help. I wasn’t sure how she could help, but decided that if I distributed the weight of the eggs between 2 bags rather than 3 it might be easier to carry. Feeling adequate for the task, I smiled, said “No thanks, I only have to walk a mile,” and waved her on. (A decision I would seriously reconsider within about 2 blocks.)
I walked a few blocks and found myself thankful for the orange hand traffic signal that encouraged me to stop put the bags down and wait until it was safe to enter the crosswalk. I was equally saddened when the signal was the white walking man that said, “Press on, egg soldier!”
It was about the time I thought that maybe if I held the egg bags like I was doing curls with a 20 lb. barbell, that a man saw me walking by and commented, “I bought eggs at Kroger yesterday and carried them home on my bike. Man, those eggs were heavy!” It was comforting to know that someone else had the same idea that I did, and had also suffered through it and survived.
Finally I passed a guy at the bus stop who looked at me like I was nuts. He chuckled as he saw me walk by, and I laughed a little too through the burning pain in my shoulders imagining what I must look like. It seemed senseless to ask him for help, he was a perfect stranger and seemed more amused by my dilemma than sympathetic. So instead I quipped, “Who can resist an egg sale?”
Isn’t it strange how simple burdens can become weighty over the long haul? I am forced to consider those who deal with pain of some sort, constantly. It is there all day, from the moment they wake each and every day. At times I am like the lady who offers to help, and sometimes I am willingly unaware of the burden they are under. God is a God who gets involved; do I reflect His heart as I interact with those around me? Or am I content to simply observe?
How often do I refuse the help of those around me because I am self-sufficient? I didn’t want help 20 yards out of the grocery store, but 20 minutes later I was unhappy with the man who didn’t offer help, fickle woman. There were people who offered help and concern, but their concern was useless as I was unwilling to accept help, or concede to the fact that I might be needy. I could have asked someone to carry one of the bags, even if just for a block or two. I may not have even needed help in the first few blocks, but why not let someone join me in the trek? Thanks God for kind strangers in Jackson, who remind me to love others, and willingly accept love as well.
