Sloshing Buckets.

To prevent sloshing, you must stop and empty your buckets.

At first this may sound like ridiculous advice, but it has been one of the most influential comments made to me in my educational journey. The idea is that people dip into their well of life that is full of joys, messes, hopes, concerns, celebrations and challenges and deposit a bit of their story in our "helper" buckets. This is a great honor, which is why the advice is so important. As days, weeks and months go by more and more stories fill our buckets. If we are not intentional the buckets can fill to the brim and begin to slosh. When I get overwhelmed or feel like my heart is broken with the people who allow me into their lives, I remember to empty my buckets. 

Emptying my bucket in Waco looked much different then it does here on Lanai. I would normally go for walks with my dog, process with my roommate, grab dinner and drinks with friends, pray or simply escape for the afternoon at a movie and let the day melt away. This is not the case here. Here we have to get creative. Walks still work, but I miss my Ladybug. My roommates are fantastic, but we eat, work and play together so it's difficult to turn off the work mode. And as for going out for a night on the town, well that is quite limited. You never know what will be said on the "Coconut Wireless" the next day, for it has incredible speed and inaccuracy. On an island of 3000 people there are not a ton of places to take refuge from the day, but we have found one place. This is one place where talk of work is not allowed. Stories of the day are kept silent. Frustrations are put away. Yes, in this one place we all empty our buckets. 

Our special place has a nickname that is dear to us all, Bubs. It’s a place that is not flashy by any means. In fact, it is broken in like a favorite chair. It is not quiet like you may think. There are pops, whistles, creaks and rattles along with the steady beat of a favorite song. This special place where together all three of us have found refuge is our little car, Bubs. 

It is here where we can relax, breathe and feel freedom. No one is watching us. No one can hear us. For a moment, we are alone. We sing, laugh, dance and let the day melt away. There are not many roads on Lana'i but by far the best drive is down to Manele beach on the 440. The road stretches for miles and is lined by pine trees that stand like soldiers at attention. Looking out the window I am mesmerized by the vivid colors of red, blue, green and yellow. The basin, sky, trees and sun all compliment each other and I am reminded of God's creativity. The best part comes about 15 minutes down the 440...yes, it is the best part. It causes us to be silent. We stop mid sentence. Turn the radio down and approach the hill. As we putter up to the top, there is a break and suddenly the vastness of the ocean appears. With out fail we all seem to gasp as if its the first time we have made the drive. At that moment, I realize how small we are and how big God is.

HWY 440