Indian Shores. (Verse 1)

[Risk No. 646] My family was offered a free time-share on the Western coast of Florida outside of Tampa. It was the first time we’d been there and a huge blessing to leave cold winter weather behind.

We fell asleep to the sounds of a loud bar across the street from the time-share and Sydney (13) said she woke up at 2am to Kelly Clarkson blasting. All in, it was a great trip.

For some reason, though, I felt a great deal of shame prior to the trip and even into the first day of the trip. Specifically, my shame was rooted in the area of risk-taking (or the lack thereof). I had been nominated as grocery runner on the first morning of our Indian Shores adventure. I knew that even early on a Sunday morning I’d see people at Publix and I was dealing with fear and shame. It’s amazing how often those two hang out together.

I made my way through just about every inch of the store to find what we hoped would be a full week’s supply of groceries. Somehow I had single-handedly managed to avoid everyone and take ZERO risks.

On the way out I felt shame dripping down….again.

Right as I went to push my cart back to it’s proper place I noticed a limping Publix employee coming to retrieve the carts. He took mine, I said hello, and turned – shame in tow –  retreating to the safety of my car. I pulled out, swung around, and hopped back out. Excuse me, sir, I couldn’t help but notice your limp. I can’t recall what exactly had happened to Drew but he was in pain and had a hip issue. I asked if I could pray for him. He nervously looked around. “Not here, not now. But you can pray for me as you go about your day. Sure.”

I expressed that I would do that and was on my way praying for Drew and praising God in the midst of shame and awkward.