Honeycrisp Tender Mercy Apples

Sometimes God sends uncomfortable tender mercies so that you have to grow.

The hubs and I have some woes.  I've gotten comfortable with being alone all day long, and as a result, any unplanned human interaction totally puts me in a panic.  Do I remember how to converse?? Gjdlsdoifjds flasjfldskjfr lkee!!  Preston's woe is that he thinks he is going to die.  This program is killing me slowly, he texted me earlier.  So, in an attempt to ignore our woes, I sat on our front step on a warm, overcast afternoon eating ice cream and reading a brochure about fun things to do in Indiana.  Sonny Boy lay just in front of me, stretched out in the cool grass.  He had been such a good dog, minding so well and not chasing the large Schwan's truck that kept driving by.  

A mother and her little girl walked past, holding hands and talking about her day at school.  In an instant, Sonny was on his feet and racing across the lawn to the little girl.  He let out a bark, which scared her.  She whimpered and scampered up into her mom's arms as I ran after the dog, apologizing and explaining that he really is sweet and very friendly.  The mom gave a half smile and kept walking with her daughter in her arms. Looking at the dog, I snapped my fingers and pointed inside, taking my hand to his backside as he walked.

I tell you what, I think those spanks hurt me far worse than they did him.  (Already he is curled up in my lap again.)  The poor thing just loves to play, and whimpers every time we pass another dog on a walk who won't stop to say hello.  I wanted to explain that to the mother and little girl.  My dog with all the pureness in his heart just wants to be friends.

So as we got in the house, the humbled dog hid underneath the couch and I flopped on top of it, deciding then and there that I deserved a good cry.  Forget ice cream and trips to the zoo that husband doesn't have time for anyway.  Life was stupid.  I prepped myself to let out some hearty tears when, of course, the doorbell rang.  Who was it but the Schwan's man.  After our brief but friendly conversation, I returned to the couch still in the mood for some emotion.

I sat there for a second, just thinking, when the doorbell rang again.  Wondering what the Schwan's man could have forgotten, I opened the door to face our sweet elderly neighbor named Shirley. Immediately she placed two apples and an envelope in my hand, jumping into a story about her cats and how they scratched her and these are her band-aids and it happened when her husband got kidney stones removed and so he can't help their handicap son move to a new place on Friday no Saturday and she didn't want to come inside because of the dog but she'd be by with munsee apples when those were ripe but for now enjoy the honeycrisp and sorry for your time and thank you bye now.

She walked away, her body tipping side to side as she adjusted for the pain in her hips, and I quietly shut the door, taking in the moment.

Apparently, a good cry is not what I needed.  I needed some homegrown honeycrisp apples, a sweet note, positive human interaction, and a reminder that we are surrounded by good.

How many times have I walked by Shirley's home and wondered how she was doing, but let my shyness get the best of me?  This tender mercy encouraged me to be more brave, to get out and meet people and let them welcome me into their lives.  Uncomfortable, yes, but the good kind.

So, friends, have a happy, uncomfortable, tender weekend.