Thursday, December 10, 2009

The Vase

~~ Aunt Dorothy was a strong woman. She was 87 years old, and very respected in her town. No body knew her relatives because when her kids reached their 30s and 40s, they moved away, forgetting all about her. Aunt Dorothy was the kind of lady that would go out to the small field in the town and watch the neighborhood boys get together a game of baseball. She would help a new mother take care of her baby while the husband is at work. She loved people, and making people happy. Maybe it is because her family left her, so she tried to support other families.

~~ So here we find Aunt Dorothy, sitting in her house, the one she has lived in for the last 50 years, creating. Building, molding, creating. You see, Aunt Dorothy was a ceramics artist, and her favorite hobby was putting a lump of clay on her potter's wheel, and sitting there for hours on end until she had a round, hollow vase to show for her work. When visiting her house, you would find vases everywhere. Every color, texture, size, style, and stage of creation. She has shelves and bookcases and tables full of vases. If you walked around the town you would find vases. She loved to give some as housewarming gifts, wedding shower gifts, welcome home gifts, and just as gifts in general to show people she cared about them and was thinking about them.

~~ Every time she gave someone a vase, she would say these words to them, "It does not matter where you put the vase, it matters what you put in it. Once you fill it with something, you will find the perfect place to set it." When Aunt Dorothy visited around town, she was always thrilled to see when people had her vase set out on their counter. One day when she visited my house, she commented on the green ceramic vase she had given me when I moved in. I had it filled with daffodils, and it was set upon the top of my counter for all to see. She told me what she has told me half a thousand times, "It does not matter where you put the vase, it matters what you put in it. Once you fill it with something, you will find the perfect place to set it." Well after she departed, I left for class.

~~ After a stressful day at school, I came home and threw my stuff on the floor by the fridge, grabbed a late lunch and went upstairs. Day after day I followed my usual routine. I began to neglect the daffodils that I had placed in my vase, and they wilted and died. Aunt Dorothy visited again as she did every Friday, and when she walked through my kitchen to set some food she made for me on the table, I saw her glance at the unkept flowers in my vase. I noticed the disappointment in her eyes, but brushed it aside after scolding myself for forgetting to refill my vase before she came. "I'll do better next Friday," I thought to myself.

~~ Another week of classes came and went, the counter top I kept my green ceramic vase on was beginning to clutter with papers, a project, some stacked up dishes, and a half empty pizza box. When Aunt Dorothy walked in she looked around and commented. "It must be exam week," was all she said, and then we went in the other room to discuss nature and politics. I shuffled around another excuse in my mind as to why I let the counter clutter around my wilted flowers in my green ceramic vase, and made a mental note to do better next time.

~~ A week later, it was Friday again.. early morning before Aunt Dorothy came in. As I was stacking another dish on my ever-growing pile, I knocked the vase with the over-due flowers and stale water into the sink. When I set it back on the counter I noticed that the top edge had chipped. At that moment, the door bell rang, so I hid the vase and went to let in Aunt Dorothy. Instead of taking her to the kitchen and sitting with her at the table, I coaxed her outside where I brought her some tea. We sat on the porch till the sun was shining overhead. Being the grandmotherly figure she was, she offered to make us both lunch. I protested in vain. Soon Aunt Dorothy came back out to the porch with a tray of sandwiches in one hand, and the chipped vase in the other. I cringed.

~~ It felt like forever until she finally parted her lips to speak, and then she pressed them together again. Eventually she asked why I neglected to fill my vase every day with fresh flowers. I broke down and confessed that I never could find time to fill it daily. Instead I would rush around on a Friday morning to fill it up before she visited. I explained how I knocked the vase into the sink earlier that morning as a result of my cluttered lifestyle. She looked genuinely disappointed in me, but only words of love and encouragement left her mouth. I felt that I did not deserve such a beautiful vase after how I had neglected it, but she took this time to explain something important to me.

~~ She told me how I have a purpose in life, and that purpose is to glorify God in everything I do. She said just as I need to fill my vase with flowers every day, it is important to fill my life with God's word. It is important to daily read my bible to know what His plan is for me, and to be able to give him complete control. Then I mentioned how the vase is chipped, it is no longer worth displaying. She walked over to my garden and pulled up some plush red tulips, placing them in my vase. When doing so, the chip on the top edge was unnoticeable because of the way she arranged the flowers. I smiled. Once again she said, "It does not matter where you put the vase, it matters what you put in it. Once you fill it with something, you will find the perfect place to set it." I understood at that moment the true meaning of those words. We as Christians never have to worry about the past, the present, or the future. If we put our full trust in God, and daily repent and fill our hearts with His word, He will direct our paths. He will place us exactly where He wants us to be, and we will be able to serve Him to the fullest with what He has given us.

~~ Suddenly that little vase did not seem like such a chore to take care of. I went into my kitchen, cleared the dishes off of the table and set it back where it belongs.

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