The Other Bucket

Driving Toward the Destination

It’s August in the 1970s, and I’m in the back seat of our big Archer family car, starting our annual 3-week vacation. We’ve finally hit the main highway to Myrtle Beach, and excitement builds as we pass familiar billboards for hotels and attractions. But nothing beats the thrill of reaching our destination and catching my first glimpse of the waves between the hotels. Ahhh – I’m an ocean girl!

After several glorious days at the beach, we head west to the Great Smoky Mountains – our destination is Nantahala Village near Bryson City, NC. I love the beach, but I also love the mountains. I love the quaint resort where we stay in a rustic cabin and I set up shop in the back screened porch where I charge my parents a nickel each for snacks (you know, the ones my Mom bought and brought along – ha!). I love diving into the cold (unheated) mountain swimming pool over and over, love the bucket-of-chicken picnic by a mountain stream, and the family-style dinners at the delicious Nantahala restaurant where we pass the plates. I love the little putt-putt golf place where we go after dinner (hole #1 is a turning windmill). Love playing tennis with Dad surrounded by towering green mountains and going into Bryson City with Mom to do laundry and eat a hot dog at the counter of the local store. The mountaintop destination is the best!

But what I definitely don’t love is riding through those steep mountain roads. Dad’s a steady driver, but the endless hairpin turns as we go up and up without guard rails always make my stomach drop and my nerves fray. Apparently, the good mountain folk are concerned for our souls because every sharp curve has a “Where are you going? Heaven or hell?” sign. Sigh. Downhill isn’t any better—never knowing if a big truck is coming up wide around the next bend. Even now, while I love being in the mountains, I do not enjoy the drive to get there. (Listen, folks, just to prove this is a real thing, the Tail of the Dragon – on US 129 in TN & NC – has 318 curves in just 11 miles!)

We all use roads and travel as metaphors for life’s journey — you know, “Which path should I take?” etc. We label our life seasons and breathlessly wait to come out of the hairpin curves into a safe spot. Or maybe it’s a dark, heavy valley and we’re chugging our hardest to come back up into some light.

Truth is, I don’t see my life quite that way anymore … not as segments of good and bad with me driving through hard parts of the road to escape to an idyllic destination. Life does have hard times — sometimes so hard they bring us to our knees … but there’s always joy there, too.

Not So Simple

A few months back, my sweet cousin shared this quote on Facebook and it hit my heart hard. Here’s the quote:

“When I was a kid growing up in the country, my dad taught me that the best way to carry something heavy is to carry something equally heavy in the other hand. From personal experience, this applies to buckets of water, overstuffed suitcases, concrete blocks, grocery bags filled with large cans of Spaghetti-Os, and dense emotions. Decades later, I remain a distracted and forgetful student of balance. Gratitude and sorrow aren’t, as I once believed, mutually exclusive. They pair quite well together, one in each hand. It can be easy to ebb into the dark seas of sadness, staring too long at grief and disunity. The trick is to keep filling the other bucket.”  (From the Ministry of Ordinary Places)

It’s true—gratitude and sorrow can exist side by side. Real life is rarely all good or all bad; it’s a blend of both. Honestly, if we wait for everything to be perfect to allow joy, we’re not going to have much joy. We’re allowed to invite joy into a dark, dismal place.

And here’s where the two buckets come in.   

I would say that many of us carry a heavy bucket, possibly filled with worries, stress, anxiety, sickness, grief, or disappointment—often not by choice. In one hand, I hold this rusty bucket, weighed down by life’s challenges. And I don’t like some of the stuff in it. Not at all.

But I have another hand. And with it, I can hold a second bucket. The easy option is to reactively fill it with a mix of life’s stuff, dropping in both good and bad thoughts as life hands them to me. Maybe a bit of gratitude gets mixed in with plenty of complaints. But if that’s how I handle it, I might end up carrying two mostly stinking buckets around.

Balancing the Two Buckets

There’s a different, life-changing option: to choose to ask God to help me intentionally fill up the other bucket with the best stuff. Like gratitude. Yes! The discipline of gratitude – as mentioned in the bucket quote above – is huge and transformational.

But why stop there? I can fill my other bucket with endless good things. Such as the markers of faithfulness God has left in my life from previous journeys. Prayer and my ever-closer, unhurried relationship with Him. The knowledge that I am growing in strength and character during hardship. Promises from His Word. People I love. (Dogs, too, dare I say!) Sweet, sweet encouragement from dear friends. Valuable attitude shifts. Giving. Purpose. Creativity. Praise and music and laughter and learning. The Holy Spirit and His fruits: love, faithfulness, joy, graciousness.

And so guys, I’ve started making a daily bucket list … I call it the Other Bucket and, most days, I write down a list of good in my journal. Or sometimes I say the things I’m putting in it out loud cause I’m weird like that. But it’s not the kind of bucket list we’re used to – where we list all the things we want to do before we “kick the bucket” and die. This Other Bucket carries all the good stuff that I can fill my life with today. Sometimes it overflows with His living water. The fuller this Other Bucket is, the lighter both buckets feel.

I’m not suggesting that we ignore our problems or pretend everything’s fine, putting on a happy Christian face. Although that does tempt us, it can also keep everything in a dark, hidden mess. And gathering all the good things up doesn’t erase the grief or challenges we carry; it doesn’t mean we should forget or fail to address the problems. Both buckets are real, and both matter. There will still be days of sorrow, and that’s okay. Recently, I had one of those days, pouring my heart out to God much of the day. Finally that evening, I stopped and said, “Jesus, how can this be? How can I have a day of such grief when I’ve been feeling so much joy?” Then it hit me: That’s what happens when you carry two buckets. Sorrow and gratitude can, indeed, be good companions—one expressing the pain and loss, the other reminding us of what we still have, or had the chance to experience.

It’s not that the hard, hurtful, sad things don’t exist — it’s that we’re going to miss out on a lot of the good gifts found in each day if we’re not looking for them.

The Invitation to Balance

Back in Middle School, I memorized Matthew 11:28-30 in Bible quizzing. I’ve thought of it often over the years and lately I’ve come to realize it’s the best invitation we’ll ever get in this life. It’s from Jesus: “Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, because I am lowly and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Such an interesting metaphor Jesus used – the yoke – a farm implement – a crosspiece that is used to harness two animals together to distribute the weight and enable them to pull heavy loads more efficiently. Jesus, inviting me to be yoked with Him, so that as I go through all the hard life roads and, yes, the beautiful places, He will share the load with me. I’ll never be alone. The yoke will be light and the burdens will be easier. Not gone. But lighter – balanced – because I’m not carrying them by myself. Like sorrow and gratitude plowing forward through some tough turf together, side by side. Maybe most importantly, as we match our steps to the greatest Teacher ever, we abide with Him and we learn to be more like Him.  

“Even when I go through the darkest valley, I fear no danger, for you are with me; your rod and your staff – they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4

I said this verse to my Dad last December right after we learned he had just days left to live. And he smiled and squeezed my hand. I confess to you: I miss both of my parents a lot. But even as I grieve, the time I spent with them and the gratitude that I had such amazing parents brings me joy. Grief in one hand – joy in the other.

The Ultimate Solution

So where do we begin when it has all fallen apart? The divorce, the diagnosis, dementia, death. Responsibilities, estrangement, regrets. No easy solutions in sight. Complicated things in our heavy buckets. How do we make it through? Is it really as simple as positive thinking – as setting our minds on the good stuff?

No. I personally don’t believe positive thinking alone can conquer life’s hardest challenges, although it helps. For me, the ultimate solution begins with Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11: “Please come and let Me share this life yoke with you.” This is where I started when my life fell apart – just me and Him starting over, while I learned how important it is to hit a low place at some point in life and to respond by immersing myself in His presence.

The solution is also found in Jeremiah 29 where God says, “I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out – plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.”

And a big part of it is described in Job 23:10 where Job says, “But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.”   

I look back at life’s hardest roads so far and they have also been the most important ones – the ones where I grew close to God and where He transformed me. The ones that, in retrospect, I would actually choose all over again for the sake of knowing Him and becoming more like Him.

God is with me through every mile. He’s speaking a type of lavish love to me that I’ve never known. And I want to speak it back to Him. The more I set other things aside and draw close to Him – the more I have the joy, the peace, and the contentment He promises.

And it doesn’t matter which road I’m on. The road isn’t the important factor in the eternal picture. It’s the Companion that matters.

So go on and open your mailbox – take out His invitation of a lifetime. “Come to Me – I’m here. I’m with you whatever road you’re on. Fill up with Me. I have great plans for you. Take your eyes off lesser things and put them on Me and don’t take them off. Learn from Me. We’ll plow through together and I’ll help carry your load. And in the process, we’ll turn it into gold.”

“Prayer is not a way out, it is a way through.” – Stan Toler