About a year ago, my family all fell sick with some nasty zombie virus. Fevers, sore throats, nausea…it was amazing. One of my dear friend’s made a porch drop of supplies for us. One of the items included in the bag was a small container of purple sorbet. When my sick kids went to bed that night, I crept down to the kitchen for the sorbet. It was so delicious. After days of applesauce and saltines, my taste buds leaped in jubilation.
Fast forward to now. Several times I have gone to the store and seen the same flavor of sorbet staring at me from behind the clear glass doors in the freezer section. And each time, I pause, I check the tag to see if it is on sale and after seeing it’s not, I walk on.
It is not that I cannot afford the sorbet. It’s that I won’t buy the sorbet.
When my husband works late or is up early (or just feels like it) he buys a $6 cup of coffee, even though we have coffee at home. When T wants a new shirt, I make sure it happens. When my daughter, E, wants some extra fine tipped paintbrushes, I dash to the craft store. Someone wants dessert, someone wants mashed potatoes, someone wants smoked turkey for their sandwich. And whenever I can, I oblige. It’s not just purchases. One child wants to play a board game, one child wants to build a Lego set, one child wants to go for a walk. Sometimes I say no. Sometimes it doesn’t work out. Mostly though, their requests are fairly simple and not extravagant and I am happy to share of my time and resources.
So I stand in the store, waiting for my husband to catch up, and there it is, in all of it’s purple glory…..slowly I extend my hand and grab onto the handle and begin to pull open the door. The whoosh of cold air blasts past me and fogs my glasses and the glass door. I look again, $4.99. I let go of the door and it slams shut. I try to see through my glasses and the now fogged door and can still make out the outline of the sorbet.
“Why would I buy this?” “I’m the only one who will like it!” “I could spend that money on something everyone will enjoy!”
But something is different that day. I open the door again, this time with authority. I grab the sorbet and I toss it into the cart like it’s been cooled by dry ice. Like if I hold it for too long it will bite me- or worse yet- convince me to change my mind. My husband is now near me and I blurt out “I’m buying the sorbet.” He looks back at me, puzzled, and in that moment I’m WAY trying to read between the lines. My hand goes to pull that perfectly purple container out of my cart. Then I stop. Then I wonder, why.
“Why wouldn’t I buy this?” “I’m the only one who will like it!” (This time realizing the potential of this discovery). And mostly I wonder…. “Why am I not included in buying something I will enjoy?”
Truth is, it’s a lie I tell myself. And friends, I wonder if you do too. Our worth is not measured solely by what we do for others, that is our worth to them. What we should really be concerned with is our self worth…. and our self worth should be immeasurable.
Buy the sorbet. And celebrate yourself in the goodness of each bite.
They Homeschool 