Pulley, Bucket & Bell
From the tree house porch
an epic, peony-pink
10-gallon bucket
plummets,
only to rise, refilled
with surprises, hoisted,
hand over hand
in glee: Let’s call it
High Tea, in a Tree,
today’s unexpected
feast, with multiple courses.
Mastermind a whimsical hour for children? One of my favorite ways to re-quicken my youth.
Kids inhabit delight. Cheeky freedom. Wholehearted, irrepressible freshness.
The older I get, the tighter my focus to sustain wellness. Personal triage revs. So many good-for-us life hacks worth shoehorning into a day!
My list might resemble yours: reading, prayer, meditation, exercise, healthy food, supplements, family time, career, research, brainiac puzzles, breathwork, further education, more exercise, volunteering, chores . . . oops,
. . . Not Have-tos but Get-tos.
STILL, I shadow box fears, juggle the weight of a future ever shifting.
How? Try to be faithful. Generous. Do all things for the love of God.
Plus, gag the craven, inner miser — lest I lose touch with mirth.
“What if we content our souls with too little?”
Lay-brother Lawrence of the Resurrection posed this question over 400 years ago. Known for his lifelong, moment-by-moment conversations with God, Lawrence’s letters speak across the centuries of God’s infinite treasures . . . earmarked for us:
Daily bread
Divine companionship
Rescues
Windfalls
I get sidetracked by duty, fatigue, empathy overload, denial, bootstrap positivity. Tree house Time seems frivolous.
I forget to “kiss the joy as it flies.”*
Then, a jolly, bright pink bucket injects a note of humor.
A pulley, by definition, alters the direction of force.
My granddaughter can pull in — or play out — the rope. She can steady the bucket once it reaches her, bow over the rim to unpack the savory goodness prepared for her.
Or she can cross her arms, stamp and pout. Boycott joy.
Friends, I share small, everyday sitings of grace to encourage myself in the Lord — as King David did when down on his luck. His example inspires me:
Cherish every reminder that God remains kindly mindful of us.
Describing a minor windfall, my soul peals with wonder. Translation: I forget to feel sorry for myself.
There, I’ve said it. What I write likely affects me most. And yet you keep reading. Praying alongside in solidarity. Some unsubscribe. Others chime in.
With compound pulleys, you can halve the weight by pulling down, together, as gravity helps lift the load.
Sounds like fellowship, doesn’t it?
I don’t have a tree house, and inside my soul’s hidden, dimly lit bell tower, sometimes my lone pulley squeals.
Then again, one tug on the rope moves ponderous bronze toward music.
I will give you the treasures of darkness and the riches hidden in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord . . . who calls you by name (Isaiah 45:3).
Known (and chosen anyway!),
feasted afresh each day,
when we’re left dangling,
let’s encourage ourselves in the Lord,
stay available, free to be filled
and used, like a swinging bell
or a bright pink bucket . . .
Friends, what might be rising to meet your readiness?
Side project:
No grands? Borrow a few kids for an afternoon.
No tree house? Stage a No-fuss High Tea under a Tree.
Tie plastic $-store pails or baskets holding edibles to tree branches.
Spread a rug or blanket beneath.
Stash costumes (hats, bow ties, wacky glasses, jewelry) and disposable tableware in nearby tubs or baskets.
Here’s what we served:
First Course: Cheesy Goldfish crackers and red grapes
Second Course: Summer sausage, pickles, peewee carrots, String Cheese, World’s Teeniest Muffins (Muffin King), and Arnold Palmer Iced Tea (half lemonade)
Third Course: Ice Cream Bars
Fourth Course: $-Store Bubbles & Wands
*“. . . kiss the joy as it flies.” William Blake
Photo by Ries Bosch on Unsplash