Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Dipping Into My Bucket

It's an unusual atmosphere, the morning sun already hot enough to comfortably bear, as it beats its way into our stagnant home. No air conditioning, again. Kids are dressed and quickly gathering their things for school, finishing last minute touches to personal attire, verbally rattling off check lists of school reminders and who wants what snack. The temperature was rising not only in our home, but in me as well from the hustle when a knock at the door stopped my busy mind. It was the property manager reminding me to leave the back door unlocked so the AC man would have access to the inside thermostat after he was finished fixing the unit. Over the past four days, this was not a man that I looked forward to speaking to. He stirred a frustration in me with his seemingly lack of priority and consideration that our family had been without any cool air for several days. Of course, he had his reasons and excuses of why things got shifted but we were the ones to endure. The comfort of what we allow ourselves to get use to and then the abrupt denial of it challenges you in a way that most of the time proves to be less than... less than happy, less than kind, less than patient even less than understanding. Empty.

"Load up, kiddos"! While on my out the door, with hopes in my return I'd be brushed with cool air on my face, my son, Jonah, walks back inside to report what I assumed to be a mishap. His brow was fretted but not frustrated, just imposing that, "I need to tell you something". Even though time was beginning to feel a little pressed, I could tell I needed to stop and listen. Something was different. His voice was eager and his spirit, confident.

His explanation unfolded as gesturing hands began to emphasize: "Mama, Noah is dipping into my bucket. You see, everyone has their own invisible bucket and it either has goodness in it or no goodness in it." Speaking more emphatically, "Noah is dipping into my bucket and taking my goodness from me, but because I want my bucket to be full of goodness, I am writing Eden a 'have a good day at school' note because helping someone else or doing something nice fills your bucket back up with goodness and I want my bucket to be full! And if I take someone's goodness from their bucket by being mean to them then I feel sad and not happy. Do you see Mama what I'm saying?" I stood there wide eyed and hanging on every word, the whole time listening to the profound words coming from my young son, who had lived a long life of eight years. When I was sure he was finished, I raced to his side, wrapping my arms around his soft shoulders and neck. Pulling him to me so tight, so secure, I said, "Jonah.... that was the most wonderful thing I've ever heard you say..." then giggling, "and also the nicest 'tattle-tale' I've ever heard, too!" We laughed together, but I quickly affirmed him, making sure he knew that "he" my eight year old son had just taught me, his mama, a very important lesson in life.

After my truck was emptied of all its precious cargo for the morning, the "dipping into my bucket" lesson made it's way to the forefront of my thoughts and laid heavy on my heart. How often am I dipping into someone's bucket taking their goodness from them? Is my bucket full from doing something nice or helpful or even just acting out of loving kindness? Well, according to my youngest son, I've got a lot of "filling" to do, not only in my own bucket but in others as well, starting with the Property Manager's bucket!


"...and the little children shall lead them"



Sunday, April 11, 2010

Levi's Prom... in the future

It's dusk on a Saturday evening and as I'm walking off the beach, hand in hand with my middle son, Levi. Just me and him, soft quiet steps in the sand, in sync with the swinging of our arms and clutched hands. Somehow in this moment I felt the good kind of heaviness in my heart that I needed to really savor this moment, so I did. As we neared the end of our walk back to the truck, Levi, with his signature raspy little voice, asked me a question I never thought I'd hear again since graduating High School.... "mama, will you go to the prom with me"? I chuckled and said, "boy, why in the world would you even be thinking about going to the prom, you've got a few years before that's gonna happen"? "because mama, I just wanna know if you'll go with me"? We never stopped walking and starring at the sand beneath our feet. "Levi, I promise when you get ready to go to prom, I'll be the last person you would want tagging along". With a shy like expression he said, "mama, why wouldn't you go with me, would you be embarrassed? Because I would never be embarrassed of you".... I squeezed his little hand three times signaling, "I Love You" and simply said, "I'll never be embarrassed to be with you, anywhere son".