messy deeds

good deeds
Originally uploaded by podso

The other day I lingered in bed after the phone call came telling me I could stay home from work. The luxury of sleeping in tempted me briefly, but is easier said than done when my mind begins to work. I wiggled my toes and stretched as I thought of the luxury of unplanned free time. The gift of a day. Maybe I would just spend the whole day reading. Or making a few Christmas cookies. Definitely time for myself.

Then I remembered an elderly friend who had been rushed to the hospital the night before. I should check on her and maybe I should take my mom along with me to visit her. There was someone else I needed to visit in another hospital too. And find a plant to take to her. And then there was someone else who I needed to help with a change to a new drug plan. Suddenly my day seemed planned as I hopped out of bed to start it. I decided, okay, this would be a day of giving to others. I pictured myself serenely gliding through the day, bestowing acts of kindness on others like the sprinkling of fairy dust.

Well it certainly did not turn out that way. I did do what I needed and wanted to do, but it was a big case of one thing can lead to another. Throw in the mix holiday traffic, not the right plant where I thought it would be, and some extremely inept insurance people on the phone with me for an hour reducing me to tears. The day deteriorated rapidly.

I came home with a splitting headache many hours later (long after I would have arrived home from work). I had a talk with myself on the way. What led me to believe that acts of kindness come wrapped in ease? Did I think I was owed a "walk in the park" just because I was helping others? Nowhere does Christ say our doing good for others will be pain free. If anyone knows about that, He does.

One of my prized possessions is a little soup bucket I have in my kitchen. The story, as I understand it, is that my great grandmother used it to take soup to sick people. I have a mental picture of a tiny Dutch woman in her heavy brown cape, walking down a city street carrying a little pot of soup and probably a basket of bread too. My soup bucket reminds me to think of others. My guess is that she didn't have an easy time with her good deeds either.