Standing in TJ Maxx in front of the sheets, I’m trying to decide between cotton and microfiber while little E wriggles in the cart, struggling to free herself from the lap strap. An older lady with black, chin-length hair browses beside me, chained bifocals hanging off the end of her nose. My boys wander up and down the aisle pointing out “cool” sheets: “I like these, mom. They’re green.” “Spiderman, mom, just what you and dad need!” Then Micah gasps loud and runs down the aisle toward me holding a package of yellow sheets, “Mom! Look at these sheets! They cost 99 dollars!!”
The lady beside me gives a rusty laugh, “You think you’re worth 99 dollar sheets?!”
Micah turns, stares her in the eye: “Of course. Don’t you know we’re all priceless?”
Voiceless, the lady stands, her grey-blue eyes looking over the rim of her bifocals into Micah’s face.
“Well . . . no one needs no 99 dollar sheets!” she says with a wave of her hand. Glancing down at Jo-Jo and Isaiah squirrelling around the aisle, she asks, “So, what’s the line up here? What order you all go in?”
Micah, still holding the $99 sheets, chimes in, “Well there’s me, then the baby that died, then Josiah, then Isaiah, then two more babies that died, then Esther. So we have seven kids total, counting the three that miscarried.”
The lady’s bifocals slip off the edge of her nose and fall into a sea of neck wrinkles.
I smile at the floor. This lady got more than she bargained for!
She doesn’t say anything, stares at the kids, stares at the side of my face, then says over her shoulder as she trembles down the aisle, “Don’t get those microfiber sheets. Those damn things don’t stay on the bed!”
A few minutes later, with microfiber sheets bought and paid for, (she was right, by the way, they don’t stay on the bed!), I ask into the rearview mirror of our minivan, “Micah, what makes us priceless?”
“Jesus, of course!”
Priceless because He is priceless.
Like the old lady in TJ Maxx, I’m speechless.
Just when I think nothing’s getting through, when the discouragement of never-ending training and failing at this parent thing weighs heavy, a grain of truth catches and holds.
Thank you, Jesus, for this gift—
Thank you for working in Micah’s heart, redeeming his story, just as you are redeeming mine.
Can you recall a redemption moment with one of your kiddos? Something they said or did that was a beautiful reflection of Jesus? Did you write it down to savor and share? If not, write and share with a friend or in the comments here, and make sure to file that story away for your kiddo to treasure someday!