“Bash!” Jack yelled triumphantly as he picked up the toy tea set and threw it in the air. I felt my shoulders tense as the tiny cups, plates, and teapot crashed to the floor.
“Bash! Bash! Bash!”
It was the third therapy session Jack had spent ‘bashing.’ I put my face in my hands, tried to rub fatigue from my eyes.
Feeling defeated, I looked at his therapist and said, “he wants to ‘bash’ everything and I just want him to stop.”
“Jack wants to BASH!” he responded.
I braced myself as Jack eagerly picked up the teapot for another toss.
Gently, Jack’s therapist took the teapot from his hands and said calmly, “You are very excited, Jack, but we are all done ‘bashing’ now. What kind of tea would you like to make?”
Jack paused, looked at her intently and said, “French fry tea!”
“French fry tea it is!” she said cheerfully. And together the two of them steeped a pot of the finest French fry tea imagination can brew.
What I failed to see is that which Jack’s therapist saw so astutely – Jack needed acceptance and just a little nudge to grow.
As one of my favorite authors, Emily P. Freeman, writes so beautifully in her book, A Million Little Ways, I must:
Be faithful to plant. Release the growing to God. Open up clenched fists and let the seeds drop into the ground, let them burrow down deep and do their secret work in the dark. Sacred shaping happens in waiting. In the words of Sir Henry John Newbold, ‘Let us build for the years we shall not see.’
Jack’s life is filled with extraordinary sowers who offer him their unique gifts so that in years to come, his garden, his life, will be full and thriving.
For the years I shall not see, I must trust the sowers and release the growing, the holy, miraculous, wondrous growing to God.