My husband has this habit of buying bananas every time he goes to the grocery store.
I’m not complaining. I mean, he goes to the grocery story for goodness sake.
On a regular basis.
Regular enough to have established a pattern of banana buying.
So, we always have a boatload of bananas.
Which means we eventually have a boatload of rotten bananas.
(This is starting to sound like a Dr. Seuss book)
Anyway, the thing is nobody really eats bananas in this house anymore.
When the kids were young – like babies – bananas were good to have on hand. Once kids start eating solids you can mash a banana up with any given veggie and you have instant delight.
Eight months old be like “Oh, hey. Spinach? Plus banana? Nom nom nom.”
“Pureed brussels sprouts? Plus banana? Let me smear that all over my face!”
“Get out! Asparagus? Plus banana? I’m on the train to fiber town.”
But over the past year, maybe even longer, no one in this house has really had a hankering for the tropical treat.
Still, the buying continues. Green bananas go yellow, then go spotted, then go completely brown and then they get stuck in the freezer for future smoothies that never happen.
My point is (thank you for waiting) that sometimes we just do things on auto-pilot without even knowing why we do them anymore.
Of course, you know I’m not talking bananas anymore, right?
Like, we get up every morning, get dressed and whether or not we need to – we buy bananas.
We get in our neurotic little patterns with our children, with our spouses, with our friends and co-workers and we don’t even realize what we are doing or why. Then, when the bananas go bad as they inevitably do, we stick them in the freezer. We tuck them away.
Just like we tuck away our emotions. Just like we tuck away our need for help. Just like we tuck away our ability to know whether or not we are hurting.
Do you even know that you are hurting?
Or do you just go buy more bananas?
I don’t know exactly when we stopped eating bananas around here, but I know exactly when we stopped relying on ourselves to fix everything. I remember the exact day my self-reliance came crashing down. I remember the people who scooped me up and helped me walk one step at a time until I could finally get myself where I needed to be. I remember what it felt like to sit in my closet writing, crying and praying for a miracle.
I remember when I got that miracle (and all the little miracles since then).
It didn’t come from hard work, digging in my heels or some neurotic pattern.
It came from surrender.
I know, I know, we’re supposed to work harder and be more and do all the things. I have done that. I still do that.
But my life got infinitely better when God got a hold of me. When I surrendered.
In fact, my life now is filled with more hope and purpose than any single thing I have ever done on my own.
And it has kept this family from going completely…
Categories: All The Rest