“One of these things is not the other,
one of these things just doesn’t belong.
Can you tell which thing is not like the other,
By the time we finish this song?”
Anyone remember this song?
Can you name that show?
Yep, Sesame Street.
And now it’s in your head.
Recently I was in the checkout lane with a cart full at the Grocery Store. Usually I stand scanning magazine article titles, making sure there isn’t anything I need to turn the littles away from. As we move closer to the belt, I ignore the candies and whatnot shelves, after a quick scan for triggers to our food allergies. (Sometimes it feels like I’m scanning more than the checkout clerk.)
But one day recently I stopped short of ignoring and stared. There was something that gave me pause for a moment.
Because that doesn’t belong.
I know where cornbread can be found in the store–over near the deli and bakery section. On a table out in the middle of the floor. But it does not go in the middle of the gum and candy and gift cards and discounted books in the checkout line. Huh. Interesting. I can remember that cornbread doesn’t go there, but I could not have told you what was there until something that didn’t belong showed up.
It took seeing something that was out of place for me to actually look around at what was there and notice what did belong.
Sometimes it’s like that in my heart. Deep in my soul. Sometimes it takes something feeling out of place before I really take stock of what is in there. To figure out what belongs, what is in place, and get rid of the negativity and brokenness that doesn’t go there.
I wonder if there’s a regularly scheduled “check” in the grocery store to return misplaced items to their rightful places. There must be, because the sight I saw is a very rare one.
Maybe I should consider scheduling similar checks for my own heart and spirit.
It’s a thought.
Love to all.