object lesson: n. A lesson taught (especially to young children) using a familiar or unusual object as a focus. An example from real life that explains a principle or teaches a lesson.

When I was a little girl, I always loved Sunday School when an object lesson was part of the morning class. The use of an egg, for example, to explain the Trinity, intrigued me. I cannot relate now how the three parts of an egg–the shell, white, and yolk–related to God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. But for a very busy little girl, it caught my attention . . . which was the point, I’m sure.

Christ used a similar method during His ministry, that of parables. (It takes all kinds of teaching methods for us humans to “get the point.”) He used the lowly mustard seed to explain faith. His story of the prodigal son explained our Father’s never changing love and forgiveness. And, amongst many of His other stories–the one about different types of soil to describe how people respond differently to truth.

When it comes to my learning capabilities, God knows that, for me–the simpler, the better. That’s probably why He continues using object lessons in my life to drive home a principle or truth.

My allergies were causing me grief. I wanted to stop by the grocery store, run in-and-out real quick, and then head home. I had just spent several hours in the outdoors at an American version of a Scottish festival. My sneezing and stuffed-up nose were ready to send me to the couch.

I should have known better. People of all ages planning a weekend of sunshine fun lined up at the checkout stands. Hoping to get out more quickly, I took my place in the self-checkout line, even though only two of the three registers accepting cash were functioning.

As I waited, I noticed an older woman in the process of purchasing several items. The size and bulk of her motorized wheelchair made the whole situation difficult to maneuver. My impatience took over as I watched her fumble along. Can’t you just hurry up? I thought. I really want to get home. As I stood, I began rocking side to side in place, a habit I’ve only recently begun. It’s a version of my rocking chair at home, I think. The motion seems to occupy and calm me while I wait. I suspect others waiting in line had the same degree of frustration and sentiment, as her difficulties narrowed the self-check registers available to only one, instead of two.

Unable to easily reach the monitors from her unwieldy chair, her elbow caught a package of marshmallows and sent it to the floor. The size and bulk of her body made it nearly impossible for her to reach down and pick it up. A woman left her place in line to retrieve it and asked if she could be of any help. “Thank you,” the woman said. “I just need to pay.” She only had five items; the one helping set them aside, ready to bag when payment was completed.

Payment was a whole other process. I have no idea how long it took, as I focused on the scene at hand, but it must have been at least ten minutes. Bonnie (her name, which I later learned), began digging in her purse searching for money. Each time she dove in, she came up with a variety of items. She brought up two small jam containers used at restaurants and several chunks and bits of small pieces of paper. One by one, she placed three or four fully dissolved cough drops, still in their paper wraps, on the check stand. In addition, she had a handful of change, bound together by said dissolved cough drops. The only cash-find was a single 5-dollar bill, which wasn’t enough to cover her purchases. The search created one huge, sticky mess. 🙂

Time stood still as I watched the scene unfold. I could feel the impatience and tension building for many waiting in line, because Bonnie was holding up their very important day and schedule.

“I left my money in my safe at home,” Bonnie finally concluded. With that, she determined she could only purchase one bag of marshmallows. The clerk in charge of check-out was beckoned and canceled the previous transactions. Bonnie then completed her purchase.

The lady helping her informed the clerk that “The stand is pretty sticky. Do you have something to clean it?” That word sticky was an understatement. I can only imagine what the inside of Bonnie’s purse felt like.

Before leaving, Bonnie exchanged names with the woman who had helped her, thanking her.

After having been given a heavy dose of perspective, I watched as she rolled off in her motorized chair with her bag of marshmallows.

I have no idea what others experienced or witnessed while waiting in line for Bonnie to finish. Personally, I was struck with the reality that everyday things in life are really hard for many people.

Many folk experience great difficulty as they live their daily lives–for multiple reasons. There might be familial issues, addictive behaviors, emotional and mental problems, financial or employment situations, or, as with Bonnie, physical problems. I doubt that anything is easy as she navigates life from the confines of a wheelchair, experiencing limitations at every turn. The need for caution must be ever present. In addition, I imagine she has had to make concessions to her independence often over the past several years.

Allergy season has come for me–in all of its glory. And it will go. I am not experiencing a terminal situation, only an inconvenience of sneezing episodes and a stuffy nose. I am not confined to a wheelchair, as Bonnie is, narrowing my ability for function to within a few feet of where I sit.

I hope in the future I have greater compassion and understanding toward others instead of impatience.

Another object lesson–taught by my Heavenly Father

Note to self:

Everyday life is really hard for many people.

Be kind. Be grateful