Chips & Checkout Lines.

Back to grocery stores. I'm starting to believe they may be my calling. Maybe I was created for such a time as this. Maybe those rows of dry pasta and that patch of spilled syrup is where I'm supposed to be. Maybe this is a test. I might be figuring it out. Maybe He wants me to see the joy in the mundane. Be filled with gratitude as a swipe my card one more time, hold my breath, and let it out in a happy swoosh as it's approved. Maybe He smiles as he watches me forget my reusable bags, again. He watches as I struggle to be calm. Collected. Force a smile as I pay that dollar for the ocean wrecking plastic bags. Chatter happily with that clerk who insists on ramming my lovely produce against the end of the till.

Because no matter how glamorous your life is, we've all got to do a harried grocery run once in awhile. Those tampons and tomatoes won't show up at your door. Not in Teepee Creek.

It was a rainy day. Dreary. I was working an eight hour day. It was an education day actually. I like those days. I'm not one of those nurses who groans and tries to slide my way out of education opportunities. It's not because I'm amazing or brilliant or anything, I just love learning. The experience of it. Crisp paper and pens with the right kind of ink and pages of neatly written notes. I'm a freak. I love school.

So even though my legs were sandblasted and my hair was frizzed when I oozed into class (I park far from the hospital. A: Because movement is healthy. B: Because parking is free), I was happy. Glowing even. Not the pregnant glow. Just the 'I actually got up in time to drink a whole Chemex of coffee and read my Bible' glow.

And so proceeded The Good Day.

I stopped at Superstore on my way home. I confidently grabbed a basket. I'm brave. I know. The shopping experience was uneventful. Just my usual grab food, look at people, make up stories in my head about what everyone will do with all the stuff in their carts, sort of shopping experience. My mind can be a strange and annoyingly busy realm some days.

I got to the checkout line. My heart remained in normal sinus rhythm. I could do this. I was strong, educated, and full of faith. I piled on food with great zeal. It was a beautiful arrangement, so beautiful in fact, that the lady behind me commented. In a lovely European accent, I must add. And so began a wonderful conversation.

We talked of the weather, gardening (I had no wisdom there), and the state of obesity in North America. My eyes at one point roamed, and caught sight of a rather lovely looking bag of potato chips. I excused myself, and gazelled over to nonchalantly grab not one, but two, bags of the snacking sort of food. Obesity. My foot.

I was sheepish when I returned, and made some lame apology for my food choices, they quite overpowered my now meager looking pile of produce. She laughed gaily, assured me that balance was important, and me being the human I am, took comfort in those words I needed to hear. And then she added,

"I'm sure God will forgive you."

I'm still unsure if she or I was more shocked. It was one of those comments that just slip out. I wear my beliefs, as well as believe them, and in that moment she seemed to realize the extent of my belief in God. I laughed, "He's forgiven me for a whole lot more than eating chips," I told her.

She was flustered. But her answer was fabulous. Her answer gave me faith all over again in mankind. Her answer was beautiful.

"I suppose He was the mastermind behind the potatoes."

And indeed, He is. Our God is awesome. And He's there for us every step of the way. Even in the mundane. He even thought of potatoes.

xoxo