On Encouragement and, for something somewhat different, Meijer

I spent around 7 hours in my office's warehouse over the past two days, accompanied by, from time to time, my boss and another coworker (hereafter known as "the guys"). We were doing Inventory, which in this case is capitalized because it could easily be preceded by words such as "The Dreaded" or "The Intimidating." Before starting any organization, everyone assumes they are fairly well organized. This is, of course, a delusion that enables people to go about their ordinary lives without the need to organize hanging over their heads. Like most delusions, it shatters upon closer examination.

Wednesday I went into the warehouse to see what we needed to do. I was overwhelmed in the span of seconds. I decided not to think about it until Thursday, which was the first time I could actually do anything about it since the guys weren't able to help until then and I can't drive a hi-lo. Thursday morning we tackled pallets, unloading their contents and stacking them in some semblance of order. I made labels for the re-loaded pallets. My coworker who can drive the hi-lo put the pallets on the racks. This is the sort of thing we did for most of the morning. We kept finding more of something that should go on a pallet we thought we'd finished.

This morning, the last odds and ends came together. I opened a few boxes to count and/or to consolidate their contents. I made the last labels. We were very excited.

This afternoon, The Man paid us a visit. ("The Man" in this case is the acting president of our company.) I said something about the warehouse looking good. He said, "Every little bit helps."

My heart sank. My spirit was dampened. I was totally deflated.

"You can't go around saying good things all the time, or people won't want to work or to improve!" said The Man.

To which I responded, "I'm not a guy! I'm a woman! We are motivated by hearing good things!"

"The warehouse looks great!" said The Man.

"I know!" I said.

"I mean, fantastic!" he said.

"We could do even better!" I said. "Now, see, that's how women are motivated!"

It got me thinking about all the times I've given and received so-called "constructive criticism" that was really just a slam. Thinking about the times I've received negative feedback (with nothing positive attached) that made me want to give up, and the times I must have given such feedback. It also reminded me of Pollyanna's contention that you find what you look for—and that it's always easy to find the bad.

What are we doing, settling for what's easy?

"Encourage the exhausted, and strengthen the feeble."—Isaiah 35:3


Today I ran errands. I got all the way to the bookstore (which, thankfully, is all of two miles from me) and realized I left my purse at my apartment. Take two, made it to the bookstore. But the bookstore is not the focus here, although the woman at the register was very helpful in reserving a book for me. In this post I am discussing that jewel of stores, that paradigm of convenience shopping, that giant of the Midwest: Meijer.

I feel sorry for those of you who may be reading this who don't have Meijer access. I know of two Midwest transplantees who miss it dearly, which makes me appreciate it even more. For those of you who do have Meijer access, I'd like you to know that it seems Friday afternoon is one of the Worst Times to shop there. The aisles were crowded with both stocking carts and people. It seemed to take me ages to finish. But when I got into my car I looked at the clock and saw that it had really only been about 40 minutes. I'm so American.

In the checkout lane, as I was thinking in irritation about all the time I had spent waiting for people to move faster, suddenly the voice in my head was saying, "What a lot of good opportunities for prayer you've had here, while you've been waiting." I humbly accepted the admonition, which included thinking about the enjoyable things that happened in Meijer instead of the frustrating things. If I had never gone to Meijer at this busy time, I would never (in chronological order):

• Have seen Santa Claus in a Hawaiian shirt
• Have co-helped an elderly woman who was bedazzled by the multiplicity of Jell-O choices and couldn't find "just plain strawberry." Another woman and I both went to work finding strawberry Jell-O. I found the large packages and she found the small packages. "I think I'll take one of the large ones and two of the small ones," said the elderly woman. My cohort and I handed the packages to her, and she moved off. "We make a good team," said the other woman. We smiled at each other. "Have a good night!"
• Have been helped by a Meijer stocker as short as I am, who climbed up on the shelves to grab two bags of potato chips for me. Another smile and "good night."
• Have purchased some Mike's and then had a conversation with the cashier about how I don't look like I was born in 1979, how I must get that all the time, and how in his last ID picture he had a beard and everybody who carded him would suspect that it was a fake ID because of the beard.

I was looking at this as my most frustrating and therefore my worst Meijer trip in memory. But really, it was the most interesting and best Meijer trip in memory. That could have gone either way. Thanks for the nudge, God.