Saved from myself

Saved from myself

On my way to pick up the middles from Nature School, I stopped at the store. I bought some notebooks for journaling and almost got a new LEGO set, in violation of my self-imposed (and therapist-supported) ban on buying or building new sets.

These (nearly) weekly updates share life with OCD as part of my Mental Work Health project to reduce stigma around mental health, especially at work.

In the line at the register, there was a young girl with braces in front of me, maybe between my oldest daughters’ ages. She put a few things up, and as the prices were scanned, she told the clerk to put back the plastic cups. I asked the clerk to scan those with my stuff and let the girl take them. She paid for the rest with a gift card, but still had almost two dollars balance remaining. She tried to swipe her card, but it declined. I asked if I could pay and reached forward with my phone. She looked a little scared but relieved and grateful and murmured thanks. I said I hoped someone would help out my daughter if she was stuck like that. The older lady behind me in line gave me a big smile and told me I did good.

When the clerk finally scanned my stuff, she looked at the lock on the LEGO castle with a sense of helplessness. She’d clearly never dealt with that before and had no idea what to do. Right then, I noticed I was already late to pick up the kids. I told the clerk to set aside the LEGO set as I had no time.

I laughed as I walked out. God had clearly orchestrated that so that my succumbing to the temptation of another LEGO set was stymied in a way He knew I could not resist—saving a helpless girl who could have been my daughter. I felt grateful that I hadn’t relapsed in buying and building another set. I had other things I needed to do that afternoon, and this indulgence wasn’t what I actually wanted. I’d been saved from myself.

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