I picked some camellias from my neighbor’s yard. It is not technically stealing because they aren’t in town and she told me I could. They are just the most beautiful pink color and they make me smile.
Anyway, I grabbed a blue mason jar off the top of the laundry room freezer to put them in. As I filled up the jar with water, I noticed a steady stream of water was flowing out of the jar from the bottom. Hmm, that is strange. I filled the jar up again, just in case I didn’t really see water flowing like a fountain from the bottom. Yep, there was a hole. I couldn’t really see the hole so I got my glasses and looked again. There was a perfectly round hole right where the bottom meets the sides. It wasn’t a crack, it was a perfect hole.
My motherly deductions were that a boy must have hit it with a stick or a hammer. Maybe even tried to drill a hole in it. Then said boy decided to put the mason jar back into my jar display so I would never notice. It was just sitting there, looking all blue and pretty until I tried to fill it up with water. I bet they never saw that coming.
As I stood there at the sink, watching the perfect stream of water flowing out of my favorite mason jar, I felt the tears start to pour down my cheeks. Then I bent over the sink and just began to sob.
The hole in the jar seemed to be what pushed me over the edge. I felt like my life was flowing out from the bottom just like that water in the mason jar. I felt like I had hit rock bottom in my marriage, homeschooling, in frienships and my world was swirling down the sink drain.
No one would have ever known what was really going on in my head. I put on a good show. Because when I look around at my friends and all those posts on Facebook and Instagram, they all look like they have it together. No one could possibly understand what a life unraveling looked like, and I sure wasn’t going to share that on social media.
The next day, begrudgingly, I met up with an old friend. I had put off our get-together twice already and she wasn’t taking no for an answer. I’ve known her for thirty-two years and it’s hard to keep up appearances with someone who has walked through every stage of life with you.
I had every intention of keeping it on the surface. You know what I mean. The usual pleasantries, “How are the kids?”, “Oh the boys are fine”, “How are your parents”, “Everything is going good!”. And it started out that way but God put his two cents in and my phone rang. It was a call I had to take and it was one that sent an immediate response of uncontrollable tears. The water began streaming out of the mason jar again.
Wendy started with a hug and then without a beat began telling me how hard it is to raise a family, keep a marriage together and stay on top of it all. She shared stories of others who had struggles with one thing or another. I began to see that I wasn’t the only one struggling. The only one circling the sink drain.
I had not considered that other people I know had the same struggles. Some in different ways but all that put a strain on life and how to face the future. Wendy also pointed out that this was Satan’s plan. If he can divide a family, he can conquer them all.
Wow. I knew that was true. But honestly, I had lost sight of the truth. There isn’t anything that I can’t take before Jesus. Faith can seem incredibly elusive when the world is spinning around you. Satan had his hooks in me and was coloring the lens through which I saw my life at that moment. It looked dark and gray. I wasn’t able to see the light around the edges. The light that was beckoning me to the truth.
I had to plug the hole in my life that was flowing out the bottom of the mason jar. I needed to stand in faith that the Father has a plan to fill me back up and believe in the blessings he has provided in my life.
When I got home, I grabbed another mason jar, picked some more camellias, and filled the jar with fresh, clean water. Every day I looked at their intricate beauty. I noticed how each flower was unique to the other in petal color and shape. The tree was full of camellias that looked the same until you studied them and saw how different they were.
I prayed for God to show me the intricate beauty in my life again and to remember that I am not alone. Hiding from truth only breeds a silence that spreads to others who need to share their truth too.
Won’t you stand with me beneath the beauty of our lives and reach out when you need a hand or plug the hole in your jar?
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