A Living Pitcher

One of our precious granddaughters is staying with us for a long weekend.
Grandma time is precious.
Enjoy this Whisper from the archives, originally published on January 21, 2016.

I ran into the ladies room before I continued my shopping.
I had been out for most of the afternoon.
I still had quite a few errands to run before I headed home.
Other women must have had the same idea.

Every stall was occupied except one that was way down at the end.
There is a certain bathroom etiquette.
You may smile at someone as you are both standing at the sink.
You usually do not converse with them.

It is the same etiquette as one would expect in an elevator.
You are all in the same place, but personal space surrounds you and cushions you.
It’s just the way it is.
That etiquette is not usually breached.

However, I breached it.
As I was turning to leave, a young mother was standing way over in the corner.
She had a stroller in front of her.
A baby was in a stroller all bundled up for the cold winter day.

All of the stalls were occupied again.
I knew she was waiting for the large handicap accessible stall.
It would be large enough to accommodate herself and her child in the stroller.
I breached bathroom etiquette.

If you trust me, I could stand here with the stroller so you can go into a smaller stall.
By this time one became available.
As I said it, I knew what her response would be.
I knew what my response would have been if I was in the same situation.

She was so sweet and so gracious.
Oh, I’m all right; I’ll just wait, she answered.
I have five children and I remember being right where you are now, I explained.
Her smile was large and genuine and I could see her wrestling with my offer.

Enjoy your precious little one, I said as I left.
I breached bathroom etiquette for the sake of a young mother with a child.
I could not believe I did that.
I played the possible scenario in my head.

I would have talked to the little baby the whole time so the mother could hear me.
I would have stood nearby so she could see my feet and know that I wasn’t going anywhere.
I would have been trustworthy with her small child in the stroller.
I probably would have refused the offer if I had been in her place.

Everyone is so careful with their children, as we should be.
Everyone is a bit leery of strangers, which is understandable.
How I wish it was different.
Yet, I know why it cannot be.

I walked around looking for the few things that were on my list.
It was not a very successful trip.
I was not finding what I was looking for.
I was in the men’s department and I heard them.

A sweet little girl was asking her mother a question.
I could hear the squeak of her little boots as she tried to keep up with her mother.
The young mother was tall and was wearing scrubs.
She probably had come from work and was probably exhausted.

I don’t want to hear another word come out of your mouth, she said harshly.
Not even one little peep? the girl asked to see where the battle lines were drawn.
Not even one little peep, the mother said as she walked far in front of the little girl.
You’re making me nuts! the mother said, which effectively quieted her little girl.

I wondered how effectively it quieted her?
I wondered if the little girl will learn not to talk to her mother.
I wondered if the little girl will believe that she makes her mother nuts.
I wondered if the little girl even knew why her mother’s words hurt so much.

Just a few minutes before, I told another mother, I remember being right where you are now.
I could have said the same to this mother as well.
I remember frustrating days.
I remember saying, For the next ten minutes, I don’t want to hear the word, Mom!

I remember the frustration that comes with the enormously important job of motherhood.
But I remember the joy.
You must remember the joy.
You must be aware that you are pouring into a living pitcher.

That pitcher, who is your child, will be filled or emptied by your words.
That pitcher, who is your child, will one day pour out much of what is poured in.
In one way or another, it will be poured out.
As mothers, it is up to us to fill that living pitcher wisely.

We make mistakes.
A few words said in frustration will not ruin your child forever.
Especially if you go back and apologize for your unkind words and attitude.
However, over time, harsh words muddy the water.

Annoyance and frustration become the norm instead of the exception.
You find yourself running ahead of your child as they are trying to keep up.
If you run ahead too far, they inevitably will run right past you.
By then, it will be you wanting to keep up with them but they will be long gone.

I walked away wondering what we would think if someone secretly filmed us.
What would the daily playbacks look like?
What would we sound like when we heard our words and our tone at any given time?
Would we be embarrassed or pleased?

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouth of the fool gushes folly. The eyes of the Lord are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good. The tongue that brings healing is a tree of life but a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit. (Proverbs 15:1-4)

We cannot do this job of motherhood on our own.
We need the Lord’s help so that we give a gentle answer, which brings healing.
We need the Lord’s help so that we do not crush the precious spirit of our children.
The Lord keeps watch; He sees; He is there to help us.

We have to be humble enough to ask for help on both good and bad days.
It is not our place to judge another mother because we are not walking in her shoes.
But it is our place to point her in the right direction.
We who are in Christ, and who have been where they are, can point her to the Lord Jesus.

He is the source of the Living Water.
There is nothing better than Living Water for filling the living pitcher that has been given to us.
Start pouring.
What you pour into your child matters.