Have a carrot!

Do any of you have a memory of a book, movie, story, or song that would consistently make you cry when you were young? There were two for me. One was a lullaby called Close Your Eyes. My mom would sing it to me as I was falling asleep, but the final line of the chorus always brought a wave of emotion. I mean, wouldn't you tear up if your mom's sweet, soprano closed the night with, "I don't know no love songs, and I can't sing the blues anymore. But I can sing this song, and you can sing this song when I'm gone..."

No child wants to fall asleep thinking about the mortality of their mother. That's a fact.

The other memory is of a book called the Runaway Bunny. Perhaps I shouldn't use the past tense when describing its effect on me either. I may or may not have opened a box of tissues a couple of days ago in the soon-to-be nursery as I was flipping through its pages.

I realized today why I have been so happy this year. It's because of the intense amount of love that I've felt. Obviously, from my new husband, but also from his giant family of 10 (Directly. That's not including nieces, nephews, and the husbands and wives of the siblings...count all of them and you get...31). Marrying into the Foreman clan is much like finding yourself in the center of a ring of uncapped fire hydrants. It can be overwhelming but strangely refreshing. Their love and loyalty is just as intense, and in a lot of ways, I've found joining their ranks to be a liberating experience. What made me realize this was my friend Julian Bacon, who made the observation that, generally, the less someone is loved and poured into, the less likely they themselves are to give love, feel joy, and show gratitude. Conversely, the MORE they feel and are shown love, the greater their capacity seems to be to pass it along.

Now I had many questions, as a little girl, about the formerly mentioned book. If you've read it, you'd probably understand why. We are introduced to a small family, specifically a small bunny and his mother, in the very middle of what appears to be a conversation that could have the potential to change the trajectory of both of their lives.

Essentially, the Little Bunny wants to runaway (hence, the book's title). And the Mother Bunny...well, in a way she tells him he can (or really, she doesn't try to change his mind). But then in another sense, she lets him know that if does try to runaway, he will never, ever succeed. I always wanted to know why the Little Bunny wanted to runaway, but the book doesn't tell us. Perhaps it's because it really doesn't matter what the Little Bunny, or the Mother Bunny did to bring them to this point. What matters is that they are there, and the Little Bunny and the Mother Bunny have to decide how they are going to handle the situation they have found themselves in.

The Little Bunny comes up with all sorts of scenarios through which he could escape his mother. Among these possibilities are his transformations into a fish, a bird, and a sailboat. But the Mother Bunny responded with an interesting point. Where there's a fish, there's a fisherman with a pole and hook, where there's a bird, there's a tree upon which it must rest from flight, and where there's a sailboat, there is a necessity for a gust of wind. These were the things that the Mother Bunny promised that she would become if her Little Bunny ran away.

I now suspect that the Little Bunny was bluffing. I don't think he really would have run away, but I think he wanted the affirmation that his Mother Bunny did end up gratifying him with in the end.

What I like about this story is that the Mother Bunny doesn't try to stop her Little Bunny from Running Away but, in doing so, makes his escape from her love impossible. It's very much like the love of Christ, in the sense that no matter where we go or what we become, His perfect love will match our needs perfectly. Yes, you may become a crocus, but that won't stop me from coming to tend my garden. Do you follow?

It is in that way, that I have felt a bit freer and, in some respects, more capable of loving. I've done some really foolish, selfish things through out my entire life, and this past year has been no exception. But the love and acceptance that has followed these instances has been just as ridiculous as the unkind or close minded things I've done and said.

And that's where the power behind real, unconditional, sacrificial love comes from. The buck stops with us when we are able to overlook some of the pain or disappointment in a relationship, or even a personal problem that effects the way we interact with those around us. I've drawn a lot of my affirmation and joy from the new love I've found in the arms of my husband, but through his finite love, I have been able to glimpse a deeper sense of the more powerful love that matches my deep aches and needs. When that happens, I don't need to ask another person to change in order for a hurt to heal. I can make progress in my relationships, and my growth as a human, because I become equipped to love patiently those who have disappointed, find joy in situations that could bring grief or confusion, and give thanks for all of it in the end.

To be honest, this post has been broken up over a period of several days, the original point(s?) have been changed or lost, and I myself am not entirely sure what I'm trying to say.

The end of the story was a good one though, so I'll just offer some advice to wrap up the last of my frayed paragraphs. The Little Bunny decided not to run away in the end, and despite his best effort to convince us of his disgruntlement through the use of the word "shucks", my money is on the likelihood of his feelings being closer to those of relief and happiness.

So just relax and have a carrot, Little Bunny.