messy deeds

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. 


Reposted from December 2007. See Chari's Happy to Designs for more Sunday reposts.