Two years ago today this tough guy and I broke up a nasty fist fight in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It was afternoon, the weather was gorgeous and more than anything I just wanted to ignore the world around me and enjoy the seemingly-perfect day with my little tribe.
I looked over as we pulled into the back of the superstore parking lot and saw a ring of people standing around as one after another people took turns punching a little blonde haired man-child. He looked much like what I imagine my little blonde boys will look like in 10 & 20 years.
Countless cars drove past. It was obvious by their reactions they saw what was happening and did not approve.
Why didn’t they stop?
I drove past, looped around, and headed my van across the suggested parking lines (I know they are legit parking lines, but Mr. Awesome swears they’re suggestions when he’s driving my boat of a van) and straight into their fight zone.
I yelled, and they yelled back. I wasn’t scared (although in hindsight I should’ve been, as I’m pretty sure I was about to be met with a gun as one of the guys watching in a truck bent down to reach something under his seat). I was mad. Crazy mad at the injustice in this world, the sin, the public fights, the downright stupidity, to be honest. I was furious at the comments coming from the heavyset girlfriend on the sidelines. Gosh, that nasty mouth of hers reminded me too much of mine when I was her age. I just wanted to tell her in the most loving way to “shut up” for her own good. I did tell her, but my approach was far from loving. Oops. If only I could go back to that day and explain myself, and explain that she could use that loud mouth and assertiveness to promote peace. If only I could tell her that her voice mattered, and she should use it wisely. She probably wouldn’t have understood yet anyway, but I wish I would’ve tried.
I’m grateful that Mr. Awesome doesn’t try to change who I am; he knows if I see something wrong I’ll say something or do something to stop it. No matter where we are, or who is watching. It’s a blessing and a curse, really.
Jesus is always watching.
It’s who I am, and no matter how much I’ve tried to be gentle and quiet, meek and mild, sweet and not salty, over the years, that’s not me.
I can’t tell you how many times I screamed out “Knock that shit off!!” to young 20-somethings that autumn.
My patience was thin. Perhaps because we were harboring a little secret at the time; I was pregnant with our 4th child. The pregnancy hormones on top of my already feisty personality were maybe a touch dangerous. Yikes!
Even carrying a child in my womb didn’t stop me from heading into an everyday modern war zone, as our society would tell us it should. Friends, we are stronger than we believe. Trust me on that.
2 years later and I’ve realized that I may be getting too old for that kind of ridiculous stuff, I may be a mother with children to protect, but I WILL NOT stay quiet when I see something I can change.
Friends, please do the same. Speak up, speak out. Be an ambassador for peace.
PS. Fun fact: I was always the primary driver prior to this incident. That day, my husband, Chad, offered to drive us home and has been driving a whole lot more ever since. HA! In reality, he took over the driving when number 4 came along because I was so stinkin’ sleep deprived.