The Day It All Went Down At The Post Office

Nothing in 2020 was normal, not for me, not for anyone. It was the onset of Covid. Life, as we all knew it, had changed. I could go into the confusion, the panic, the division of our nation and the navigation of daily living, for which none of us, had a file, or reference. But, I won’t. That is a story we all know and it made most of a little crazy. But, for our family, the added layer of losing our son that July was a hard reality that enshrouded us. It put me in a state of being I’d never known.

One day I forced myself to go out into the world to mail a package. What I really wanted to do was hole up, retreat, isolate even. But I knew that I needed to get to the post office. “It’ll be quick”, I told myself. I started down the road and realized I’d forgotten my mask. I was annoyed about having to turn back to get it. Why did everything have to be so hard – all of the time?! The task of running a simple errand seemed to be insurmountable. I dropped my tense shoulders, inhaled…and exhaled…and prayed. “God, I AM trying so hard…trying so hard just to live and just do the next thing. What do you want me here for? I am so broken, what good am I? It’s too hard to run a simple errand. Do you even see me here?”

As I continued down the road, peace had settled over me. I felt God telling me, “Trust in Me, in my timing, in my sovereignty.” I parked and walked into the little post office that closes for lunch at 11:00 and re-opens at 1:00 every week day…like clockwork. I had just 10 minutes to get my package mailed. I held my breath, there was already quite a line of evenly spaced and masked humans. I obediently stepped on the blue “Keep Your Distance – Stand Here” circle and waited with the others for the next opportunity to advance to the next space. It seemed like we were all just little plastic pieces in this game of life. The line seemed to move at a snail’s pace.

I could hear the customer at the window explaining, “I got 6 jars of honey all needin to go to different places, each of ’em out of the country.” What?! I thought, This was going to take some time, “Who has the bandwidth to complete complicated tasks at a time like this? Aren’t we all just trying to survive?” I sensed God telling me to “breathe…be still…trust Me” Finally, the man got his honey jars on their way toward distant lands and the line advanced one space forward.

Thinking I was finally next, I started up but the clerk waved a lady from behind up to the front. She had only been getting her envelopes ready. “Oh for the love…” I muttered under my breath, hers was a complex mail out as well. Again, I sensed God saying, “Be still…you are on my timetable” I looked at the clock, It was nearly time to close. The line behind me had grown to 7 more impatient people. The tension felt thick. Everyone knew that window would close soon. No one made a sound, the silence was heavy until…

“Well if you’re not going to wear it correctly, you may as well just take it off!! a woman in the back of the line demanded. Her sharp voice cut through the thick air like a hot knife.

Immediately I wondered, “What am I wearing wrong? My blouse? My hair clip? “ She must be talking to me, right?” I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d walked out of the house with my blouse on upside down. Nothing surprised me anymore, grief brain had become a factor in some of the simplest of tasks. I was making mistakes daily.

I did not dare turn around. I stared straight ahead. I did not breathe. I did not shift my weight. By nature, I am an avoider and I wanted to avoid this at all costs. I was next in line just behind the patron with her stupid complicated mail.

Silence hung in that tight, little room after her jarring announcement, no one made a sound. However… she would not be ignored,

“Sir!! Just take off your mask!” she demanded from her spot on the 5th blue circle…

So… this isn’t about me?… I thought. “Not everything has to be about you”, went the conversation in my head. Still…I was uncomfortable. I sucked in my breath.

“It does NO good if it is just under your nose! snapped the woman, Just take it off already!!”

I couldn’t believe that she wanted to heat this up!

My eyes remained fixed on the back of the woman with the complicated envelopes, I needed to breathe, I needed to blink!

and then…the quiet man who’d demonstrated improper mask protocol had heard enough…

“Why don’t you… just shut your mouth?!” he sneered.

I wanted to melt into the wall next to me. A fight between strangers, in a public place?? This wasn’t a bar or a ballgame where it might be expected. It was the United States of America Post Office in tiny town USA!

Silence hung again as I, and the rest of the “game pieces”, pretended not to notice.

And then it started, a fiery ping pong match of reproofs,

“Sir! I am a nurse! I know about these things! My sister just died from Covid. I didn’t get to see her in the hospital and we didn’t get to have a funeral” The woman’s emotion gushed over.

“I don’t know anyone who has ever died of Covid!” he retorted with disgust, no doubt at the end of his rope with all of this Covid “nonsense”. He’d had enough of it all!

“I’m all alone. I have no one. It’s terrible having someone you love die!” Her voice broke.

Still standing, still staring straight ahead…I could have been a totem pole…I was silent. No one else in the post office had made a peep. But then I felt it…something rising in my chest, the pressure mounting. Something was going to be said, I didn’t know what. All I knew is that it would be coming out of my mouth.

I felt my body begin to turn toward her like a turret. Overwhelming compassion and empathy poured from me. She was in such pain. I felt for everyone in the post office. The man who’d been thrown into a pandemic like the rest of us. the rest of the patrons who’d unknowingly walked in on some sort of reality show and for the mail clerk who just wanted to close her dang window and go to lunch.

“I am SO very sorry that you lost your sister. That is awful! It should have never happened.” You didn’t even get to have a funeral? ” I empathized with her.

“Two months ago, today…” I continued, to her and to everyone else, I suddenly lost my 20-year-old son. Right now, I have such an awareness that this life is so short compared to eternity. None of us know when we will have our last breath! I will see my son again, but for now I am on this earth. We all can have grace with one another here and now in this crazy time. God has granted grace and love to each of us; it overflows from Him to us so that we can share it. There is no scarcity. You know how hard life is for everyone right now.” I said a few more words but I don’t remember them now.

“I would die if I lost my son.” replied the man with the mask under his nose. “I did die once…” he quietly muttered.

I looked at him, now, fully engaged…no longer avoiding the awkwardness. My brows raised at his claim. He continued…

“…on the operating table and then I came back. I can tell you… that your son… is in a better place.”

I replied with sincerity, “I would love to hear your story, sir.”

“I close in 3 minutes!” came the shrill announcement from the frazzled postal clerk. She was going to cut short any campfire story from starting up and delaying her lunch.

I stepped up and mailed my package without further drama and turned and walked toward the door where the man with the improper mask stood, “I am sorry for your pain, sir.” I said. He replied in a thin tone, “I have no pain, I am one of 14 children!” There seemed to be so much in that statement but I could only reply “God loves you, God bless you, sir.” His eyes softened, “Thank you for your kind words”, he said.

I walked out to my car in amazement. I had entered that post office to do one thing – just mail a package and speak to no one, because I had nothing to give to anyone. But God had other plans in mind. Though I felt He was absent or uncaring before I went out, I had experienced His presence and love at just the right time. Was all of this happenstance or God’s divine appointment? I vote for divine appointment. God is love. He is the Father of compassion and all comfort. He is the reason for any good thing that happens. What an encouragement to my weathered and grieving heart. It is true that the reason we are able to comfort anyone is because He is the source of all comfort. There are times that I still feel like a broken, little game piece just trying to advance one step in life. But I am reminded that it is Christ in me and through me that I am able to give empathy and hope. It may only come in small doses sprinkled here and there but I don’t want to miss being a part of any of it when He calls.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5 “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.”

Dear Heavenly Father…thank your for divine appointments. We often mistake these for delays, frustrations or situations to avoid. You call us to be your hands and feet, to spread love, compassion and truth. Remind us to check in with you the next time we get irritated because of an “interruption”. Please pour your love through us, don’t let us miss out on the blessing of sharing with others. Thank you that you love and care for us and bring us together.