On expired formula.

There is this lady who attended my church for the past six years or so. She also attended the church I grew up in (back when I was growing up), so she knew me for quite a few years. She had a very sweet demeanor, and would almost always engage me in conversation if she saw me. She would always ask about my family- how my parents were doing, my siblings, and my nephews with special needs. She always seemed to remember what was going on in their lives. She would think about children's ministry often, and would want to volunteer, but it would never seem to work out. She would bring in extra diapers and little things here and there. About last September, she brought me three cans of infant formula that she had bought for her grandson and didn't end up using. Two of the cans hadn't been opened, so I passed them on to whoever I could, but one can she wrote a note on top of that she'd used four scoops.

And then one day, a couple months after the last can of formula, I got an email saying she had a stroke and within a week, she passed away. And I can't bring myself to throw away this expired can of formula. Because the truth is, it seemed like every time she wanted to engage me in conversation, it was the worst possible time. I had things to do, I had kids to take care of, I had classrooms to get ready. And for some reason, I always had this thought in the back of my head, 'I have things to do. I could be doing something else, something better.' And it's that thought that kills me. Since when does having a to do list to take care of become more important than listening to someone? Since when does accomplishing my agenda become more important than investing in the life of someone else?

So for now, it sits in my office- unused and expired. But it serves as a gentle, daily reminder to me. I'll probably bring myself to throw it away someday. When? I'm not sure. But for now, I'm listening.