Parking Lot Theology

Veronica Mitchell and I are co-posting on the topic of bravery today. Her post is here.

* * *

I am leaving the grocery store and walking towards my car. I notice an elderly lady loading groceries into the trunk of her car. She is slow and unsteady, yet proudly managing on her own.

At the same time, a young kid wearing the uniform of youth -- tattoos, piercings and attitude -- brushes past me as he trots across the parking lot towards his beat up van. Sean and I watch him jump into the van. He flicks a lit cigarette out the window. He turns up the speakers to an ear shattering volume and nods his head vigorously to the beat. His ugly hair whips his face.

I sense impending disaster, yet I am helpless to change the course of events. Intuitively I know what is about to happen. Everything seems to move in slow motion.

I continue to push my cart towards my car. I watch the elderly lady close the trunk of her Buick. With her purse secure in the crook of her arm, she steadies herself with her other hand on the car as she walks around to the driver’s side. She steps gingerly as though walking on broken glass. With a key, she unlocks the door and then takes some time to settle herself in the car. Slowly, ever so slowly, she begins to back out. The car comes to a complete stop as she reaches up to shift from reverse into drive. My eyes cut to the van. Smoke puffs from the exhaust pipe. The engine growls. The bass beat of a rap song rattles my sternum. The young kid throws the van in reverse and backs out, his head still pulsing to the music. The van shoves hard into the back of the Buick.

Steel meets steel, groaning, scraping, screeching -- a sound that seems to belong to the sea and not an urban parking lot. I watch her white head lurch forward as the van jars her car. In an odd gesture, she reaches up and puts her hands on top of her head. She sits there for a minute with her hands on top of her beauty parlor hair as though she can’t think of what to do. The thought flashes through my mind that she probably has never even put gas in her own car. I imagine she is wishing her husband were alive to take care of matters. The tattooed kid jumps out of his van and starts yelling at her through the window, “Hey lady, you hit me!” He points his finger at her. The rap music from the van fills the parking lot. The combination of youth, tattoos and piercings are intimidating. She rolls down the window. Her face is filled with fear.

I stand there with Sean on my hip for a few minutes, watching from a short distance. I imagine that I might run over there and stick up for her. I would say that I had witnessed it all, that he hit her, that he needs to step off! I would point my finger at him. I would write down his license plate number. But there I stood as though my feet were glued to the pavement. I did not move. I had Sean. I had groceries. I had a million excuses. It was just a fender bender. It wasn’t that important. She probably has insurance. I hesitated. I vacillated. Just as quickly as I talk myself into marching over there and sticking up for her, I talk myself out of it.

The young kid bullies the elderly lady into believing it is her fault. I know it isn’t. Without exchanging information, he jumps into his van and speeds off. I am sickened that I feel relief that he is gone. The elderly lady gets back into her badly scraped car with her badly frayed nerves. She sits there for a few minutes. Now instead of slow motion, everything seems to have happened in the blur of fast forward. It is over. I drift over to my car and watch her drive off as I unload my own groceries.

When I get into my car, I too just sit there for a few minutes. I feel ashamed. I did not help and I don’t even know why. I would want someone to stick up for my mom, for Sean, for me.

I look in my rearview mirror at Sean. I hope he won’t remember the day his mom did nothing. I hope that I can teach him to always be at least brave enough to stick up for the weak, the widows, the orphans. I know I have to teach him by example. I feel shame all over again.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress… James 1:27

Comments

[meritt]

You didn't make this up, did you? Ugh. I wish you had. I feel horrible now too. I was soooo hoping it would have had a different ending.

[bubandpie]

I don't have anything to say - just that I know I would have done the same thing, and felt the same way. We've all been in that parking lot sometimes. Which somehow makes it worse, doesn't it?

[Susan J.]

Don't be too hard on yourself. You did have Sean to think about. You have used this ugly moment as a lesson to us all.

"For by your words you will be aquitted, and by your words you will be condemned." - Matthew 12:37

You use your words well my friend.

[Shalee]

Oh AM, how I wish you could have made a different choice at that time. Sometimes sticking up for others involves much incovenience on our part. But that is what the love of Christ is all about... taking us out of the picture and doing what is good for others.

You know I'm saying this comment with all the love I can think of going to you. We've all wished to have "do-over" moments that we could change.

Thanks for showing that the kindness of Christ is something to be learned, not something inate in Christians. We are, afterall, still humans with weakness yet to be mastered.

[Leslie]

It's amazing how paralyzing fear can be. While you may not be proud of your inaction, you're doing the best thing you can now that it's over - learning from it and sharing that lesson. Thank you for that.

[veronica]

Beautiful, humble and penitently honest.

And if I may add to the Bible-versing, "The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit." (Ps 34.18)

[Susan]

Sending (((HUGS))) to you.

[starrynite]

We don't always make the best decisions. If we did, we'd be perfect, but none of us is. I think we can all understand why you reacted the way you did. Some of us are would be extremely courageous in one situation but paralysed with fear in another.

Thanks for sharing your story.

[Susan]

I've been thinking about this some more, and don't know if you're interested or not -- or if this even makes sense -- but is there any way you can report what you saw to the police department?

Maybe they can track that poor old woman down and she can use you as a witness in court, if need be--especially since she might want to fight it once she realizes it truly wasn't her fault. I know it would be a lot of work on your part, potentially, but maybe it would make you feel better about the whole thing.

[Christy in TN]

Thank you for being real. Your story touched my heart.

[Linda]

I understand. More often than not I too stand rooted to the ground instead of doing what I really know the Holy Spirit is prompting me to do. Don't beat yourself up. The enemy would love to just totally demoralize you. God in grace forgives and gives us lots of "do-overs". I am so thankful for that.

[kacey]

You have so much courage to admit a perceived shortcoming in print. Most of us would do the same thing, but would like to think that we have higher ideals. One consolation about the little old lady --- accidents in parking lots are not a matter for police when nobody is hurt. It is private property and your own insurance takes care of your repairs. Your slick talking young man knew to get out of there, because it is never okay to hit another car in the butt. One thing about the little old lady --- she put her hands on top of her head, because at times like that --- you don't want to get hurt when the rest of the sky falls.

[Laura]

That story made me cry. Thank you for sharing.

[gracie]

You were very brave to post this. Unfortunately sometimes, I am the person who rushes to the aid of all and sundry, and any kind of injustice gets my blood boiling. I don't always think before stepping in... and I know it isn't always wise.

[Laurel Wreath]

I think it was because you were with Sean I know I am making excuses but I am always a bit braver when it only concerns myself. But when I am with my children, I tend to be on the chicken side of things.

Thank you for your vulerablity.

[Christina]

I have had some experiences like this and it is almost like being in suspended animation. Your not sure how to react and it's over so fast you end up doing nothing. Don't be too hard on yourself. We have all don things that we are not ahppy about. Remember like the above comment, you were there with Sean. I am sure some where in the back of your mind you didn't react because you just didin't know what this stupid guy was capable of.

[June Cleaver Diaries]

The fact that you feel badly for not interferring shows your true character. That alone is something to be proud of. When your son doesn't stick up for someone on the playground, remind him of this story and how it made you feel. The lesson is still there, and it will let him know that you, too are human and that you understand how hard it can be to do the right thing.

[Pieces]

There is not one of us who don't carry the same kind of regret that weighs down on you right now. I know from experience that these things happen in a heartbeat and, though in your mind the incident stretches out forever, it was more likely a split second of hesitation before it was over and the punk was gone. Be kind to yourself--you have no idea what kind of situation God may have been protecting you from.

[daring one]

This story has a sickeningly familiar ring to it. But you wrote it better than I would have.

[Gwen]

Dear AM, I have been reading your blog for several months and have enjoyed it immensely. You write SO WELL! I, too, am an Antique Mommy (my son was born when I was 43; he'll be 2 on 10/16). This post struck a chord with me as I fear that I might have had the same reaction you did and I so very much don't want to be afraid of doing the right thing. I especially feel that way now that I have my son. I want him to see my right behavior in action *always* and not just talk about it. My husband and I were talking about this post and he believes it's a natural reaction since women are not usually involved in confrontations during their growing up years and men tend to have confrontations of one sort or another from the time they are little boys. It occurred to me that a good way to have been able to help out but avoid confronting the jerk kid was to walk up to the woman in her car and ask her if she was ok. The kid might have left at that point (probably with his mouth still running but at least you've re-directed his spewing to your back and that way leave the poor lady alone). Thank you for sharing this moment and your distress over it - many of us have had similar situations and agonize over our decisions.

[Lisa]

You had the honesty to put out to the whole world what every one of us has felt at one time or another, whether we confessed it aloud or buried it deep within the confines of our souls. Please, dear Antique Mommy, don't be so hard on yourself. In reality, what were you to do? I am certain that if this derelict-looking person had gotten physical with the elderly woman, you would have at least called the police, or shouted for him to stop. We have all been there. I believe that God doesn't always put us in these kinds of situations to DO something about them...but to LEARN something FROM them. You have learned that you would like your son to stand up for what's right in the future...and so you will guide him.

[PastorMac's Ann]

Aww, A.M., I'm so sorry. Thanks for posting this, that took courage! And it is such a good reminder for all of us.

Take heart dear. 1 John 2:1&2 and Lamentations 3:22-23.

Hang in there.

[Jenn]

Hi, I am over here via BooMama. I just want to tell you how amazingly brave you are for sharing this story. It is touching and I'm so sorry you have to carry that guilt with you. I know exactly what it feels like to know you didn't do the right thing. However, God would never let you go without learning something from it and teaching us all something through it. ((HUGS)) to you. God bless.

[Mrs X]

I don't know. I'm not sure that I would have stepped in either. At least not conciously. I tend to open my big mouth when I really should just shut up. I know I'm more hesitant to speak up when I have my kids with me out of concern that if they got nasty, what would happen to my kids.

*and totally off topic, but I couldn't stand not knowing anymore so I googled pimento cheese! I think my mom made something like it.

[mamaspeak]

You know I had to chime in on this don't you?

I had a professor in college who used to always say; “you do the best you can with what you have at the time.” And she’s right. There are lots of reasons why what you did was the right thing to do, not the least of being Sean. Sure, we’d all like to believe we’d be the big hero and step in, but the reality is that (here in California) chiming in on something like that could easily get you shot. So watching from afar to make sure it didn’t escalate to something worse was probably the smartest thing to do. Maybe it doesn’t feel like the best thing, but as a Mama Bear it was the smartest. (My brother’s a cop & I know he’d agree with me on this one.) I believe that if it had started to get out of hand you would’ve called for help and that could be considered heroic too. Anyone who believes they wouldn’t have had second thoughts at least is delusional—don’t let them fool you. You had your baby with you and he comes first!

As for the punk who played G’ma? Don’t worry, he’ll get his; I believe in karma. Try to think of it this way; no one actually got physically hurt and maybe that was the best you could hope for on that day. Quit beating yourself up on this one, you’re a good mom, Sean is ok and so is G’ma. Hang in there.