Tuesday, August 31, 2010

The Blue Vase


There is this really pretty vase in my cupboard.  I just love it.  It's kind of a Dutch Blue motif with scroll work and flowers.  It was part of a set of two that I gave to my grandmother many, many years ago.  They were actually mini-urns.  She gave them back to me a few years before she passed away, and I always cherished them because of the sentimentality and the wonderful memories that they brought back when I used them.  So, for years, they sat on my window-sill and they contained potpourri or the occasional small bunch of flowers.

Accidents happen.  There is no escaping that.  It's a known fact.  We're all familiar with Murphy's Law.  Trust me, it has knocked at my door many, many times, and just when you think you've had all that you can handle, it delivers yet another blow to your otherwise normal life, and then, well, you can pretty much figure it out from here.

Suffice it to say, things fall, they break, sometimes beyond repair.  If you're the type to try and "fix" things, you  scoop up the pieces, run for the Crazy Glue gel, tweezers and magnifying glass and set up trying to restore what was once "whole".  You might get it to where it looks "okay", but it will never be perfect again.  Water seeps through the cracks, and our once beautiful piece looks so sad.

Kids are the same way.  For that matter, people, no matter what age they are, are the same way.  You can criticize and belittle until you have beaten them down to nothing more than those pieces of that broken vase.  Just like that vase, it takes a lot to put the pieces back together.  Sometimes, an awful lot, more than some people are willing to do to help restore someone to what they once were.  That is just so, so sad.  Have you ever known people like that?  I'm sure you have.  We've all been exposed to them at some point in our lives.  The hard part for each of us to admit to, though, is that there have been times in our own lives when we have been the one delivering the wrath and "breaking" the "vase".  Some of us learn and try to make things better, others cannot see beyond their own wounds that maybe go back for years and years, and simply think that the way they are handling things with this or that person, is the right way, the only way.  Destruction begets even more destruction, and that is not just sad, but heart-wrenching.

I couldn't ever have children, but God blessed my husband and I with two absolutely amazing adopted children, both of whom, I not only adore, but love beyond all reason and would lay my life down for either of them if it came to that.  There were moments when they were growing up, that I lashed out and yelled and maybe said things that hurt and belittled.  I wasn't and am still not the "perfect" parent.  But, as I have said in a previous blog, children don't come with instruction manuals, and parents make mistakes, just like their kids.

I have my own two children, but over the years, I've had countless other kids that lovingly called me "mom" or "momma #2" and they found our home a comfy place to be.  There were always good things to eat and plenty to do and always someone that would listen, to even the most trivial of topics.  They may not have been important to me, but they were to the kids sharing them, whether mine or someone else's.  I love kids.  They are one of the greatest gifts we can ever receive from God.  In each one's own special way, they are blessings and leave a mark on your life, but more importantly, your heart.

The reason I decided to venture out with this topic tonight was due to something I witnessed yesterday.  I have the wonderful privilege of helping out some friends with being the "wheels" for their son.  He is a totally cool kid.  Love him to pieces.  Yesterday, he showed the world just how great he is.  Now, I'm not going into too much detail, but just know this.  In a competition vying for a coveted spot on a performance physical fitness team, this young man made me so absolutely proud, I was about to bust at the seams and couldn't wait to tell his parents about what he had done.  He finished the course, ran 2 miles, 8 laps, 15+ minutes, heart pounding, red faced and shuddering at the end, collapsed to the ground to rest.  But, then he looked out across the track and saw one of his comrades struggling and losing ground and confidence.  So, he pulled himself together, ran around the track and paced himself with this other child and coached him and encouraged him and helped lead him to the finish line, but more importantly, to accomplishment.  I just wanted to scoop him up like he was mine and hug the stuffings out of him, but you know, as a teenager, it's not cool if your mother does it to you out in public, let alone, a family friend.  Leadership, spirit, true comradery.  I was proud as punch.  Unfortunately, my joy over his success and show of spirit and encouragement, was momentarily overshadowed when I heard the father of another child publicly berating and belittling him from the track side all the way to their car.  It was all I could do to keep my composure and before I could walk over and speak on behalf of the young man, they were loaded and peeling out of the gravel lot at the park.  People, don't ever do that to your kids, but sure as shootin', don't do it in public around their peers and the other parents.  I felt so sorry for the young man.  I don't know how old he is, but couldn't have been more than 13 and he looked as if it was all he could do to hold back tears.  Shame on that father.  God bless that child, and I sincerely hope and pray that his life is not always like that.  My only sorrow now, is that I did not go over and say something before they rushed out of the park.

Just so you know, it never hurts to tell someone that they have done a good job, whether it's an employee, a co-worker, one of your children, a friend, a spouse or other family member.  Praise builds confidence and pride.  I know most of us who have had and still have the privilege of raising our children, have, I hope, handed out plenty of "atta-boys" and "atta-girls" to our kids.  Because, amazingly, for every time we take our kids down a notch or two for the stupid reasons, it takes a whole lot more pats on the back and extensions of praise to make up for that one scream-fest or accusation of momentary thoughtlessness or lack of thinking to put them back together.

So, here we are, back at that pretty little blue vase.  I still have it.  I still cherish it.  It reminds me of my grandmother, but the cracks and the yellowed glue smears also remind me of my own imperfections and of all the times that I might have said or done something that put someone in the spot of being "the vase".

When God created me, He knew from the moment I was born that I was not going to be perfect.  I've made mistakes my whole life, and still do, but I spend each moment of each day trying to continually learn from what I've done wrong and make it right the next time.  Sometimes, it takes a few "do-overs" to get there.

One last analogy, and then I will wrap things up.  To my daughter, if you are reading this, sorry sweetie, but it's priceless and I have to share.  Several years ago, Walmart Stores wowed the country with their innovative, talking self-checkout scanners.  There were a lot of glitches in the early days, and one such story is near and dear to my heart, as it involves my daughter and her dearest friend. They were chomping at the bit to do the "cool" self-checkout thing and were just having the best time with it, UNTIL, we got to the bananas and the donuts.  For nearly 5 minutes, those girls steamed when the sweet, feminine voice on the scanner kept telling them to please remove the yellow bananas from the bag and put them back on the scanner.  It took 8, maybe 10 tries, but they finally satisfied that invisible voice and moved on to, OMG, the donuts.  Who knew that something so yummy could be such a pain!  They were hand selected, assorted varieties in one of the pack it yourself boxes that hold a dozen.  Problem was, that the box had a UPC bar code on the bottom and when the girls scanned it, the pleasant voice asked for quantity.  So, they put 12.  The scanner interpreted that to be 12 dozen and we ended up summoning the Walmart employee to use her fancy little employee authorization card to undo our failure and reset the stupid, confounded, self scanner and get that overbearing invisible lady off our backs so we could pay and go.  The girls were beyond embarrassed and to make things just a little bit worse, I used the situation as the basis for a children's sermon at church the following Sunday.  Couldn't help it, it just fit in.  This is where I am going with this.  I call them "do-overs".  The girls had lots of them that day at Wally World.  More importantly, God gives us all lots of them on a daily basis.

He doesn't berate and belittle us.  He probably shakes His mighty head and then He holds out His big, loving arms and gives us a hug, pats us on the head and tells us, "I know you messed up, but I am giving you another chance".  How great is that!  There are not many situations in real earthly life where that happens, but it is really nice to know, that when we don't get it right the first time, that our Heavenly Daddy is ready to give us a hand and a Do-Over!  Even better, He knows just how many do-overs it will take for the lesson to sink in.  I think it's called Forgiveness, and He expects us to do the same.

Okay, I'm done.  Go hug your kids.  If they can't spell Mississippi yet, it's okay and if they persist in trying to make 2 + 2 = 5, that's okay, too.  They will learn.  Encourage them and love them.  Let them know you are proud of them and while you're at it, if you're proud of someone else's kid too, tell them.  I just love it when kids get that silly grin on their faces and blush when they realize that they are being told that they are great.

Goodnight, y'all!  and God bless.  Oh, by the way, you're great!  Love you!
K