Shannon Ethridge's Blog

We recently introduced you to current BLAST participant, Kathy Floyd, and after seeing this post on her personal blog we immediately knew it was something we wanted to share with our own readers. Enjoy! –SEM staff

I was reminded this weekend at my BLAST class (www.shannonethridge.com/blast if you’re curious) of a story about some hot water. Hot water is usually a good thing.  Think lobster.  Showers.  Cocoa.  Steaming your pores.

Sometimes I really like me some hot water.  Other times not so much.

I greatly enjoy a good hot bath.  REALLY hot.  Especially in winter, I love to let the hot water run over my hands and feet while the tub fills up.  If I’m cold and nothing else seems to help, a hot bath will warm me right up.  Putting something fragrant in my hot water just makes the whole experience rich.  Give me some Bath and Body Works Eucalyptus Spearmint products (body wash, foaming bath AND sugar scrub, thank you) and I can turn into a happy, happy girl . . . at least until the water gets cold.  (I like the Arbonne Sea Source scent too, just so you know.  Shameless plug for my sis-in-law’s stuff.)

I (and the other grownup I reside with) like a hot bath so much that one of the things on our house’s bucket list is a tankless water heater.  Those pricey little appliances give you the ability to have all the hot water you want instantly.  No more running the tank dry and then having to wait for it to manufacture more.  Trust me, I can run a hot water tank dry all by myself, no assistance required.  If you want a bath at my house, you better get yours before I get mine.  (That sounded funny . . . I’m hoping none of y’all want a bath at my house.  It was a figure of speech.) It’s great for doing laundry and dishes too . . . like I care.

Hot water can also refer to something that’s not so soothing.  It’s called Trouble.  As in “that girl done gone and got herself in some hot water.”  I’ve done that before . . . gotten myself in a spot of hot water.  You don’t really need to know more than that.  It’s enough to confess that I can understand how lobsters feel.

Of course, like with lobsters, sometimes we don’t crawl into the hot pot ourselves.  We get thrown in.  Or it gets thrown on us.  Guess what?  It’s still awfully hot either way.

I guess that’s a lot of what makes the difference between hot water that is tolerable and the kind that is not.  Did I choose it for myself?  Okay then. Or did I get subjected to it against my will?  I’m still cooked, and that’s just flat-out not fair.

On a side note, there are those who choose the hot water for themselves, and then get irritated about the consequences and think you did it to them.  Shame on you, you lobster-killer, you!  But that would be a whole ‘nuther post for a whole ‘nuther day.

Anyway, here’s the story I was reminded of this weekend (thanks Debbie Heatwole):

A man was trying to teach his daughter about responding correctly to stressful situations in life.  To illustrate his lesson, he brought three pots of water to a boil on top of the stove.  Into one, he put some carrots.  Into the second, he put an egg.  Into the third, he put ground coffee beans.

A little while later, he turned off the burners and let the pots cools down somewhat.  Then he continued his instruction by pulling the carrots out of the first pot.  He asked his daughter, “Can you tell me what happened to these carrots when they were cooked?”  She replied, “Well, they were firm, but the hot water made them all soft, kind of mushy, actually.”  ”That’s right,” the father replied.  ”Sometimes people who are subjected to stress and trouble get mushy and weak.  They’re no longer able to stand firm.”

He then asked her to take the egg from the second pot and describe what she found.  ”I know the egg was soft and liquid on the inside before,” she said, “but when I crack the shell, I find that it has gotten hard.”  ”And that’s what some people do in hot water,” said the dad.  ”They were tender before, but they let the hard circumstances of life make them hard on the inside.  Now, go ahead and tell me what you see in the third pot.”

The daughter looked into the pot.  ”It’s coffee,” she said.  ”Strong coffee.  Hmm . . . so you’re saying that some people let hot water make them stronger?  Like, the stress actually changes them into something good?”  ”You’ve got it!” the father exclaimed!  ”The people who are like the coffee beans may not enjoy the experience of being boiled, but when the process is complete, they have become something that is useful, even delicious.”

“I see now what you’re trying to tell me,” said the girl.  ”I need to always be careful to be like the coffee beans and let difficult times make me strong, not hard-hearted like the egg, and not weak like the carrots.  But hey, Dad, do you see something more in that third pot?”  The father looked at it for a minute and then said, “Tell me what you mean.”

The daughter replied, “Dad, not only did the boiling water transform the coffee beans into something good . . . the coffee beans transformed the hot water.”

So here’s what I have to ask myself . . . when life gets tough, do I get mushy?  (Yes.  I’ve been a cooked carrot mushball lately, and not for the first time in my life.) Or do I get hard-hearted?  (Yes.  Either I look for somebody or something to be mad at, or I throw up a wall to keep from getting hurt by all that heated liquid you’re slinging around.  Of course, it IS you slinging it around.) Or do I get strong?  (Well.  Hmm.  Maybe sometimes?  On good days?  If everything else goes my way?)

Okay . . . so sometimes, on occasion, every now and then, I can let the hot water of life make me into something usable.  If I’m in the mood and it’s not too much trouble.  Like a lobster who stays put in the cookpot.  I’m such a good girl if I can do that, right?  Like, three cheers for that lobster!!!!

Whatever.  But am I satisfied with being a good little crustacean just sometimes, on occasion, every now and then?  Not really. Do I ever go a step beyond letting trouble transform me to where I actually transform my troubles, maybe even making them more tolerable for others?  Not usually.

I could learn a lot from a coffee bean.  Uuggghhh!  Did I mention I hate the taste of coffee?

I leave you with a loose paraphrase from the book of James for your consideration.

“Count it all joy when you fall into hot water . . . “

What is your current hot water doing to you, or what are you doing to it?

(For more from Kathy check out her blog at http://kathyrodenfloyd.blogspot.com/)