It’s been 22 years since I potty-trained my youngest child. The details are murky, but I do remember two things: (1) candy was part of it, and (2) all 7 of them got it done.
Today my bathroom once again has a child’s potty in it. Emerald has shown signs of readiness, so Birgitta and I bought two, one for her home and one for mine.
The day I bought them, I stacked the identical potties inside each other on the store check-out belt. But when I got home, I’d been charged for only one. The checker must have swiped them simultaneously.
A 34-mile round trip separated me from the nearest Walmart, and I didn’t have time to head back, but I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t straighten it out.
What bothered me most was knowing I’d have to convince Customer Service to take the $10 I owed. I’ve learned from past experience it’s not always easy to be honest. I considered dropping $10 into the church offering on Sunday to clear my guilt, but by the next day, I knew what I had to do.
While awaiting my turn at Customer Service I rehearsed my lines. “This may sound funny, but I owe you $10.” Or, “I never paid for this potty and want to pay now.”
Then I thought about the receipt in my hand, knowing the check-out girl’s identity was encoded there. Would my desire for a clean conscience cost her her job? Maybe I should just walk through the aisles and place my potty back on the shelf, which would cancel my debt. Better yet, I could walk to a check-out counter and just buy it again.
No doubt God was getting a good chuckle watching me ride my moral merry-go-round.
Scripture teaches us to do the right thing, labeling it “righteousness.” We shouldn’t have to argue ourselves into it but should just practice it without pause, never worrying about the response of others. In the process, we’ll develop positive character traits that please God. Doing the right thing isn’t usually easy, but once we make it our default behavior, it takes less and less effort.
When it was finally my turn at Customer Service, the young girl there furrowed her brow as I stumbled over my words trying to land somewhere between criminal (shoplifter?) and saint (too honest). Bracing myself for resistance, I was thrilled when she simply said, “No problem.”
She swiped the potty, collected my money, and handed me a receipt. As I turned to go she said, “Good thing you came back and paid for it. If you hadn’t, your granddaughter might never have gotten trained.”
Didn’t think of that one.
“He who speaks the truth declares righteousness.” (Proverbs 12:17)
Something similar happened to me recently. My 4-year old and I took a “quick” trip to Target. We moved fast, trying not to get distracted and successfully got what we needed. Right before checkout, my daughter saw a super-cute hairband and asked for it. I thought, “Sure. Why not?” We threw it in the cart. I was on the cusp of my “time-limit” and needed to get back home to my 7-month old who I knew was waiting for her next nursing. I didn’t want my Mom to be stuck with a hungry, crying baby! We jogged out to the car, buckled in, and I looked through the receipt. No hairband listed. I checked again. Like you, I had a mental tug-of-war. “I don’t have time to unbuckle my daughter and go back in and do this. But it’s the right thing to do. My baby needs me, and I need to get home. If you just get out of the car and get it done, it won’t take that long. It was their fault. It’s only 5 bucks. God wanted to bless me with this free hairband so I should just accept it. Please, you know better.” I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, and I would be upset every time I saw my daughter wear that hairband. And what kind of hypocrite would I be when I try to teach my children about honesty? I got home 15-minutes later than planned, and my baby hung in there fine. But I did wonder if maybe I was ridiculous to take the time to go back in and pay for that little hairband. No, I did the right thing, and I loved reading your story. You REALLY made efforts to be honest over a “small” thing, but God used that to bless me (and others, I’m sure). So thank you for your example and sharing your story!