mother who know do less: thoughts

At a Mother's Day dinner at my parents' last year, my dad said, "Oh, I have something for you from Hawaii."

He left the room and came back holding a green glass ball.

I gasped. "I have been looking for one of those!"

My dad, obviously surprised at my reaction said, "You know what this is?"

I nodded, "It's a glass fishing float. An antique."

Several weeks ago my mom had told me of an analogy that someone had shared with her. We often use the image of "juggling" to describe the many different tasks/jobs we have. In this analogy some of the balls that are being juggled are glass--those are the balls that have to stay up in the air. Some of the other balls may fall, or even be put down for a time, in order to keep those glass balls up in the air. BUT those glass balls. . .they cannot fall and break.

That rang true for me as I can feel frustrated at the fact I can't always return my library books on time, or I feel I can't refine my photography skills the way I dream. . .or a million other small or big things in my life. But those are the balls that can fall or be put aside--in order to keep the most important breakable balls from falling--my family, my testimony and my friends.

Since my mom had shared that I had this vision of a bowl full of balls--some breakable and some not--as a visual reminder of my most important work. I had seen a picture somewhere of these glass fishing floats--and knew that was the ball I wanted to purchase. Visually I love the color and the shape. I also love the idea of an object, made of breakable glass, has floated in the ocean for over 60 years. An object that has weathered every type of storm--and has come through in tact.

I also love the raffia balls--because they don't look like they will be hurt when they fall (our pocketbook can cover those overdue library fines), in fact they won't even bounce away. They can wait. There will be a time to pick them up later. But the green glass sea float can't wait.