This is a special one-off post.  I opened the fridge today to pack my lunch and this blog idea hit me really hard, and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to share this today.  Maybe it’s just the message I need.  However, if you feel this one hit you at the right time, just know that God/The Universe/Whatever thing connects us all together, says, “Hello!  I see you.  Here’s a hug.”  The message is all about containers and holding things.

Anyway, take a look at the picture.  What’s in the container?  Your first instinct might be to say that it’s a tub of butter, since the container says it holds Country Crock.  Spoiler alert.  It’s not butter.  It’s actually filled with delicious vegetable soup that my mom made the other day.  It’s going to be my lunch.  Growing up, did any of you ever use leftover butter containers to hold leftovers, legos, craft parts, and other things?  We did this all the time and still do.

As I pulled the tub from the fridge and put it in my lunchbox, I smiled at the realization that this was a container that could hold anything.  Just because it held butter once, didn’t mean it always had to hold butter.  There are limitless possibilities for this container.  There are infinite possibilities of what this container could hold.

So, where is this going?  I realized this morning that I’m a lot like the container.  I’m a vessel capable of holding multitudes.  I realized that just because I was filled with one thing, didn’t mean I would always have to be filled with that thing.  If I was filled with anger, irritation, venom, sadness, hopelessness, or any other strong emotion that felt heavy, didn’t mean that I would always be filled with those things.  In the same way that the butter was emptied from the container, I could empty myself of those things too.  In the same way that the container was then filled up with heart warming soup, I too could fill myself up and allow others to feel me up with things that warm my heart and spirit.

The challenge: We are all containers.  What will you hold?

Have a jolly good day,

Andrew Embry