rebound.reset.respect

​My mother had a way of meeting me right where I was. By the time I was born, she had found a maturity — and the gift of humor. She didn’t need to solve my problems or take away the pain or give me an excuse for being either irresponsible or self-absorbed. She didn’t lecture me with long-winded advice, but always had a story…and it usually happened in the kitchen. She taught me to Rebound…Reset…and Respect — both myself and others, but always being real — remembering that unless you decide to take a shot, you can’t win.

Such was the story the day in 8th grade when my dark and dreary world of “unfair” adolescent gloom met her mid-life questions of meaning. I knew the tone — it meant that the kitchen was turning into her classroom and there was a lesson that would not be resisted. The best way to quicken the curriculum was to be attentive, quiet and forego argumentation (no matter how sure I was that I could win).
(Recently, I have read this teaching of hers on the internet…I thought then that she made it up — more likely she read it in the gospel according to Reader’s Digest. The source is important , but not more important than what I learned that day and have been living for a lifetime).

At moments like this, her instructions were clear, direct and to be followed. With me, the softer her voice, the more she was containing the interior volcanic action. Slightly above a whisper she gave me the list, “Get out three saucepans. Fill each one half-way with water and bring them to a boil.” I followed directions hoping that we weren’t cooking as that could be an all day experience and I didn’t want to lose hold of my misery. While I followed directions, she gathered three items: an egg, a carrot and some coffee grounds.

Then, I felt like I was in English class as I had to describe each one by texture, size and weight. Following instructions, I put one in each of the three pans of boiling water and turned the time for 12 minutes. “Do you see what we are doing here?” she asked with the hand on the hip that I can precisely duplicate. I affirmed my clueless understanding. “Just wait” she instructed. I followed.

After the objects had been sufficiently boiled she asked me how they had changed and with the muffled sarcasm known so well to those of us who love adolescents, I described the change. I knew by the look on her face that I had missed the point. Then, came the teaching that keeps on teaching.

And so in a softened tone and a single tear that crept down her wrinkled cheek she began, “Life…she said to me…brings its share of boiling water moments. One of these pans represents the pain that is caused by others, while another represents the pain that will find you without inviting it and the third is the pain you create by your own actions. The question is what will you do when you hit the boiling water. Will you become like the egg — once full of the possibility of life and now with a tough outer shell, hard on both the inside and the outside. Or, will you be like the carrot –once tough but when the boiling water arises, you become weak and soft. Or, will you be like the coffee grounds and change the nature of the boiling water with your flavor. It’s your choice. The boiling water happens. What you do with it is your choice.”

And then she turned, picked up the keys to the car and left me in the kitchen.

Rebound
Reset
Respect

It’s the Lenten journey…to experience what it means to hit the boiling water moments…to take a moment to reset — sometimes my expectations, sometimes my quick reaction, sometimes my fast judgment, sometimes my confusion about who I am and who God is…and this Lent I have taken on the added practice of Respect. It’s easy for me to relate to life as though it could all be solved in 160 characters or less — to be so sure who is right and who is wrong and to expand the river of divide between “we and they.”

Respect means being able to really shake hands at the end of the game and be the coffee grounds that changes the water. Life, it seems, teaches us the skills to be the hard boiled egg that can’t be broken or the carrot that weakens. The Lenten journey this week, for me, is about making Respect the result of my Rebound…letting the boiled water Reset my heart and open me to having even my hardened adolescent heart broken open by a love that taught my how to face the fire with both a tear and a teaching.

Today….Rebound — Reset — Respect

Thanks, Mom.  I did listen.  It just took me a while to get it.