There's a Bowl in My Cupboard

When Jeff and I were newlyweds, we were living in our first apartment in Seattle. Being newly married had its own ups and downs but adding a mystery health issue to the mix was trying.

One Sunday morning, after eating a scrumptious home cooked breakfast, we were cleaning up the kitchen and were about to get ready for church. I was loading the dishwasher and Jeff was bringing over his dishes. He set his dishes on the counter to be rinsed, started to walk away to clear the table but instead passed out, collapsing backwards onto the open dishwasher, knives and forks scratching his back on his way down and cracking his head open on who knows what. (Because of this, I never load forks and knives upward in the dishwasher anymore, they HAVE to be facing downward.) I was beside myself. He would not wake up. He was bleeding, was out cold, and I did not know what to do. When he finally came to, he had no idea how he had even gotten to the kitchen. Of course, his head needed stitches and we were off to the Emergency Room. Since we had no explanation for his passing out, they decided to do a CT scan and an EKG. We were in the ER for hours just to hear that both of these tests came back negative. Needless to say, we missed church that day. We made some quick friends in our new ward and when we got home from the ER they had called to find out why we missed church. Less than an hour later, 3 couples came over with dinner for us, helped give Jeff a blessing, and stayed to make sure we were taken care of. It was so wonderful to feel their love and concern for us.

This is what brings me to the bowl in my cupboard. The bowl that contained a wonderful meal in our time of need.

I had every intention of returning the bowl to its original owner, the couple who had called us after that horrible Sunday in Seattle. It was washed and a thank-you card was tucked neatly inside. Sundays came and went, everytime I would forget to bring the bowl to church with me. Every double date, the bowl was forgotten. Every game night, the bowl didn't go home with its original owner. So, in my cupboard this bowl sits to this day. Twelve (plus) years after the incident and I have never returned this bowl. Careless? Yes. Regretful? No. I love this bowl. It doesn't go with any of my dishes, but gets pulled out and is used constantly as if it were always mine.

When my mind is clear and I pull out this bowl to use, I can remember its original purpose, which was to bring me and my new (albeit sick) husband a meal to ease a burden during a stressful time. I am so grateful for when others have thought of me, providing a service that I didn't ask for but needed at the time. This bowl reminds me to think of others, to put the needs of others before mine, to look for ways to serve, to ease a burden. This is a goal of mine. To be selfless. It's a constant work in progress, but some days I do succeed.