Tip of My Iceberg

Health enthusiasts constantly encourage us to eat a wide variety of colorful foods. Dark, leafy greens, bright red peppers, strawberries and the like.

Let’s not forget blueberries.

Blueberries are my favorite food to love and hate. Love those high amounts of antioxidants and all those vitamins A and E. Bring on those little blue balls!

And they stain like crazy.

Brooklyn is almost three and is quite passionate about her blueberries. She might choose to live almost entirely on macaroni and cheese and cheese sticks, but blueberries are her favorites.

And she has to touch each of them.

Here in Florida, we’re no longer in blueberry season. There are actual places here in the spring where we go to pick the little blue buggers. What are in the stores now are imported from goodness knows where, so the best way to get tasty blueberries is in the frozen food section.

I was asking Brooklyn what she wanted for breakfast the other morning. She can’t be bothered with eating first thing in the morning, so I ran through what we had on hand.

Waffles (frozen, of course), Cheerios, oatmeal (that brought a frown), eggs (a bigger frown), and blueberries with plain yogurt.

“Blueberries!”

“With yogurt?”

“NO. Just blueberries.”

I thought they might be more enjoyable being heated a bit. But without the yogurt, the frozen became a blue puddle in the bowl. She picked up each blueberry, ate it carefully, then played with the puddle.

Blue teeth, blue fingers, blue face later, I tried wiping the color away. Short of power washing her face and hands, they wouldn’t lose their blue tint.

Apart from the blueberry thing, I don’t see many people being “blue” around me. Freely sharing sadness or hard times. Honestly addressing grief, pain or loss.

Everybody is “just fine”. Including me.

I’m in a season right now where I am being confronted by a lot of personal sadness. A dear friend is dying. Stories from people I work with are filled with the stark reality of living in a broken world. I get so involved in the busyness of life that I feel lonely at times–even though I work with people all day.

All sad.

I’ll admit it’s easier for me to smack a smile on my face and operate from a positive perspective, squashing my sadness or hurt to where it can’t pop out unexpectedly.

That only lasts so long. After a while, the denied feelings demand attention. If I’m not careful, they can bubble up into something quite objectionable–a bad attitude, unnecessary anger toward an innocent friend, words said that I can’t take back.

Jesus encourages me to share my burdens with Him. The sad that I don’t really want anyone else to know about. The pain that isn’t comfortable to share. The loneliness that can happen even in a crowded room.

Sharing hurt with the One who was hurt without cause. Sharing loss with the One who gave it all up so that we might live. Sharing burdens with the One who had to carry His own cross.

Such compassion can wipe away the blue stain.

What are you bearing alone?