Meltdown

“Difficult times have helped me to understand better than before, how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things that one goes worrying about are of no importance whatever…” ~Isak Dinesen, (pseudonym of Baroness Karen Blixen), Danish author (Out of Africa), 1885-1962

“Honey! I’m home!” My wife’s voice wafted into my electronically induced coma. “Are you asleep or watching TV?” Her voice came from somewhere far away. “Just a minute,” I responded. On TV in HD the “perp” was starting to sweat. I was not going to miss this, even though I had recorded the program weeks earlier and could pause it any time I wanted.

“Where’s the basket of food we had blessed at the church this afternoon?” My wife’s voice was now emanating from the kitchen. “It should be there,” was my perfunctory response. “I don’t see it,” she said as she came around the corner. At that point the fog lifted and I remembered. “Oh, it’s in the back of the car,” I replied offhandedly, looking away from the TV, but only for an instant. “I hope not,” responded Teresa as she headed for the front door. It must be 85 degrees outside.

The unsuspecting suspect finally fell prey to the detectives’ clever mental gambit. The perp collapsed into a fit of heaves and sobs, between which he blubbered out a confession, which conveniently explained the entire plot. Teresa returned with the basket. “I think the chocolate has liquefied,” she observed heading for the kitchen…and the refrigerator. The credits were running so I quickly deleted the program and followed her into the kitchen.

“How is everything,” I asked casually. Teresa had finished her triage and was undertaking a salvage operation transferring the deformed chocolate bunnies and eggs to a shelf she had cleared in the frig. “It’s not looking good.” “They are kind of deformed,” she remarked working quickly and carefully. She was right. The bunnies’ tummies, were no longer round and nicely formed, now they had big dimples in the middle. The ears were laid back having been weakened at the base and the brightly colored foil had taken on a rumpled appearance. The chocolate eggs were similarly dimpled and had flattened on one side.

Teresa stood in front of the open refrigerator with her head cocked to one side contemplating the condition of her chocolate creatures. Easter is a big deal for my wife. She takes pride in the Easter baskets she assembles for our daughter, son-in-law, her mom (and me). In her world chocolate is to be purchased from purveyors of fine chocolate, not chain stores or pharmacies. For her it is a labor of love.

It had been my responsibility to bring home the basket of food (which contained the foil wrapped chocolate) from the church where the food had been blessed for Easter. Teresa departed the blessing ceremony to run errands, but I had headed home and gone straight to the couch. Now I was trying to think of some really good excuse other than, “I forgot.” Thank goodness we didn’t have the usual lamb, sculpted out of butter, in the basket. Teresa was still looking into the refrigerator when the laughter started. “God they look awful,” she said shaking her head in amusement. I started to apologize, but realized as long as she was laughing I was safe. Teresa shut the refrigerator door and returned to the other, less perishable, items in the basket.

Quickly weighing my options; should I ask if she was mad at me (even though she was laughing) or attempt an apology. I took the high ground. “So you think they’ll be alright,” I asked? “No,” she replied still laughing. “They look hideous,” she concluded. “Maybe no one will notice,” I suggested. “Hun, chocolate turns white from heat…they’ll notice, trust me.” At this point, I was quickly running out of options. “Should I go back and buy more bunnies?” I offered, hoping she would say no…and she did. “No, that won’t be necessary,” she replied, turning toward me with a smile. “Besides…this will make a good story for you to tell.” Teresa, still laughing, turned back to the basket. I headed for the safety of the sofa.

There was a time in our marriage when the molten chocolate creatures would have provided an opportunity for a vigorous argument. Fortunately we approach things differently these days. When seemingly bad things happen, one of us will undoubtedly say “well at least nobody died.” Compared to world hunger, global financial collapse and catastrophic natural disasters a few melted chocolate rabbits and eggs are not of much concern. But as stewards of time, acknowledging every moment we have on earth is a gift from God, it seems somehow inappropriate to cope with life’s events by simply characterizing all the potentially annoying ones as insignificant.

The “don’t worry because it’s not important” approach can be dangerous because it requires us to make a determination between significant events and insignificant ones. As stewards we are called to recognize every moment of our life as precious. Therefore, we must treat all our time as being of value. Arguing over my mental lapse would not have been a very valuable use of our time. Further, if it had become a point of contention, every time we returned to the event, the memory would have been painful. On the other hand, seeing the humor in the situation, not only strengthened our relationship, but produced a pleasurable moment in our life. One we will fondly recall over and over again.

This does not mean we should fill every second of our lives with what we perceive as significant events. There is a difference between something being “of value” and being “significant”. When time is “valued” our cup is full and our heart is light. Seemingly small things take on new meaning. This “value” can never be taken from us like laughter over melted chocolate. “Significance,” on the other hand, can be taken away from us at any time. Even if I broke a world record, eventually that achievement will be eclipsed, rendering it less significant.

Like my loving wife, I want to have a full cup and a light heart. It is not simply a matter of surviving potentially emotional situations, like melted rabbits, by deeming them to be insignificant (small stuff). Rather, it is about seeing these incidents as something of value…something to be approached joyfully. Teresa turned her attention away from herself and saw the humor in the situation: the chocolate cadavers laid out on the glass shelf of the fridge looking as if they were on a slab in the morgue. She returned the time to God with increase, full of warmth and laughter.

It is not about surviving life by rendering most of our lives as insignificant, nor is it about filling our lives with things we deem to be of great significance. Rather it is about approaching life realizing all our time is a gift of great value, to be approached reverently and joyfully…traversing each day with a full cup and a light heart.

Dear God: Remind me time is free, but priceless. I can not own it, but I can use it. I can not keep it, but I can spend it and once I have lost it, I can never have it back.

“Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.” ~Henry Van Dyke, American short-story writer, poet and essayist (1852-1933)

© 2010 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
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