Ladle

This metaphor of a ladle has been sticking around in my minds eye these past couple of months.

I picture this big metal pot, full to the brim of cool, refreshing spring water. I see it in the distance. I see a faceless man standing next to it, holding a silver ladle in his hand.

I have walked out the shadows, beaten, bloodied, hot, dirty and extremely thirsty. I have no clue where I have been but I keep walking towards the faceless man.

I see a mug on the table as I draw closer. The faceless man takes the mug into his right hand and begins to dip the ladle into the metal pot with his left hand. He slowly plunges the ladle deep into the pot and pulls it out slowly.

The water is cascading over the edges of the ladle, back into the pot. The action of the falling water causes it to push out over the edge of the metal pot and on to the table itself.

The faceless man hands me the mug of refreshing water. I take it. He disappears.

I am alone with the mug and the water.

He didn’t ask me a thing about where I had been or what I was doing. The faceless man knew I had a need. And he met it. And he was gone.

I have been on the receiving end of that ladle of grace numerous times.

I am working on the giving end...dispensing without question or hesitation.

How about you?