This morning I made oatmeal for the boy’s breakfast. As I was spooning it into bowls and dropping a spoonful of honey over each one, Owen announced that he didn’t want his stirred up. I decided that I would allow him to eat his oatmeal un-stirred, I poured just a little milk over the top and gave him the bowl. He likes it this way because he can taste the honey so much better if he eats it on top of the oatmeal. I gave the other boys their stirred breakfast and sat down to help Aron with his. Before long Owen was scrunching up his face and nearly in tears because his oatmeal was too hot. I explained that it was still hot because he hadn’t stirred it.
“Why is it hot because I didn’t stir it?” he wanted to know.
I explained that stirring allows the cool air to get to the middle of the bowl and exposes all of the oats to the temperature in the room. He mumbled something and began stirring.
I was immediately struck by the analogy in my own life. I don’t always like my life stirred. I like to taste the honey and enjoy the milk, I’ll endure the plain and boring of the oatmeal because the sweet and pure of the honey is worth it. Sometimes however there is a price beyond enduring to be paid. Just as Owen burned his tongue this morning, which of course nullifies the enjoyment of the honey, I often find that I’m nursing a wound in my spirit due to my refusal to blend a few things together and take my honey with a few lumps in it.
I think my kids are the hardest thing for me to blend. I love them, I want them around, I love to share experiences with them, but there are some things they don’t go well with. Eating out, Movies, Shopping, etc. the kids just don’t always mix well in these bowls of honey. However, this is the season when I cannot separate them very often without getting burned. If I do not mix them in, they will not learn to handle any of those scenarios well. Our pastor asked another minister when his children were small, how to make them love the ministry. He could more easily see them resenting all the time he spent away from home. The minister simply answered, “take them with you.” If I want my kids to enjoy what I enjoy I have to mix them in and combine them with what I love.
I wish I could end this more eloquently, but I think I got my point across and now I have to leave. I’m going to Hendersonville for a Ladies Board dinner at Carabba’s. YUM.
What a great analogy and a very interesting point! I wish the “bring them along” advice worked as well for the Post Office.
Life shares such interesting lessons if we only take the time to notice. Thanks for doing that and sharing with the rest of us. So what yummies did you eat at Carabba’s. I love that place!
That is so important. Kids are resilient and they learn quickly how to deal with new situations – but often, it doesn’t seem to be quickly enough. THe hard work now, taking your lumps as it were, will pay off in the end. I am already starting to reap the benefits of children who know how to behave around adults, who can hold their own in conversation and who are creative, independent thinkers. “Take them with you” is, as I think about it, some of the best parenting advice I’ve ever heard.
It probably sounds crazy but I love taking my kids with me. I always have. I remember taking Amanda to the movies when she was two and she was so small that the seat folded up with her. Of course there are days when things are frantic and Travis is home when I leave them with him to get errands done…and my kids are probably the reason I don’t go to the Post Office. I’m not sure if I mix them in because they need to be mixed in or because I need them there with me. I probably won’t analyze that today…