Trick or Treat Buckets
I'm working at the zoo in my state capital, and my job is to direct people to the trick-or-treat trail. I see all sorts of amazing costumes, excited kids, unaware and/or passed-out-tired babies, and a variety of parents and other grown-ups ranging from childlike in their excitement to exhausted and ready for bed.
I also see a lot of trick-or-treat buckets.
Buckets, bags, tiny backpacks, grocery sacks, even hats.
The thing about the trick-or-treat buckets is that they're all different sizes.
And the kids know.
They're not comparing bucket sizes with each other, no. But they are comparing the amount of candy they get to the size of the bucket they were given.
Most of them, I'm sorry to say, are disappointed.
This isn't to blame the zoo because honestly 14,000 people in one day is a GARGANTUAN amount of candy. Regularly achieving numbers in the 8-10,000 range will rack up a few million dollars in candy alone, and in case you haven't yet seen the prices of Halloween candy this year, well, it's scarier than a horror movie.
But my point is that the kids with the teeny tiny buckets (think Baby's First Halloween size) think they've made out like bandits because they were given such small buckets and they received such a small amount of candy. But they don't care. Their buckets are full.
The kids with large buckets, though?
They know.
They can see.
They can do the math.
They are rightly disappointed because they were given a large bucket and received maybe ten pieces of candy total. Parents are either relieved for the low amount of sugar or deeply sorry for their kids who were so excited to trick-or-treat at the zoo and got so little in reality.
This is what trick-or-treat at the zoo has taught me.
It's okay to recognize that you were given a large bucket for life.
You were given a huge heart that could hold the world. You were given hopes and dreams that go far beyond the daily 9-5 grind with two dogs and a decent yard. You were given talents that far exceed those of your average bear. You were given abilities that make others ask how you do it. You were given passion without equal. You were given a large bucket for life so that you could carry all the wonderful things you're supposed to receive from life.
Other people who are content with a lifestyle that requires little to nothing to get through, or those who are content to remain in a barely-get-by lifestyle, were given small buckets. So when they get a handful of candy, they think they've made out like bandits. #GratefulThankfulBlessed they print on everything.
But what about the people with the large buckets?
Are we supposed to just shut up and be content with the handful of candy in our large bucket that we were given, and not question why our large bucket isn't filled?
I don't think so.
I think the people with large buckets need to recognize they were given a large bucket.
Then the people with the large buckets need to ask why the large bucket I was given isn't carrying all it was meant to carry.
Add in candy thieves, and you've got yourself a recipe for a bad time.
Don't forget the lowlife dirtbags who throw rocks into your bucket and crack it. #trauma #betrayal #abuse #cheating #neglect
My point is that it's okay to say, "Why isn't my bucket full?"
You're not ungrateful. You likely feel bad for saying anything. You probably already understand you didn't have to get any candy, because starving children in Africa don't even know what candy is. Guarantee you are appreciative of the handful of candy you did get.
But that doesn't change the fact that you were given a large bucket and it isn't carrying all it was meant to carry.
It's okay to recognize this. It's okay to say, "Hey this isn't right. I'm getting shorted."
Recently I told God I deserved better out of Him. I told the God who can answer the question "You and what army?" that I deserved better out of Him and was no longer accepting breadcrumbs, mere mouthfuls of dried-out grass, barely skating by, being heartbroken, being betrayed by supposed "friends," being abandoned by people I have loved. I told the God who spoke flaming celestial bodies into existence that I demanded better out of life and starting that day I was done being shortchanged and treated like the redheaded stepchild. Done. No more. It's either everything I deserve, or I quit.
Because as not only a child of God but also as an adopted daughter into the legal heritage of the King of Kings, I do deserve a lot better than what I've been accepting.
Have I not also faithfully served? Have I not done all that You asked of me? Have I not withstood every trial, tribulation, attack, storm, fire? Have I not also earned the fatted calf and the rings and the celebration? Does my bucket not deserve to be filled as full as it was made to be filled???
It does. And I have. And I do. It's not about never making a mistake because God knows I've made my fair share of mistakes. Oops. But simply by virtue of my status as an adopted daughter of the King, my life should be a LOT different from what it is now. My bucket should be full.
And no matter what it may look like to those who probably have smaller buckets or whose large buckets are already full to overflowing, my bucket is not full.
And I'm mad about it.
Yes I sound like a toddler but honestly toddlers have this incredible ability to see things as they are and tell it like it is. Toddlers are honest. Toddlers have an innate sense of "okay" and "not okay." Toddlers are not afraid to tell you they deserve better.
And after all, we are called to have a childlike quality to our faith and spirituality. I wonder if that wasn't a hidden message from our Father that He expects us to know our worth as His creations and as His sons and daughters, and He expects us to say, "Enough shortchanging. I deserve better."
If you're battling your self-worth, it's time you lay down what you think you know of yourself and pick up your ID -- imago Dei. You are not only a creation of the Creator, but you are also, provided you have a relationship with Christ, an adopted legal heir to His wealth.
So, Prince or Princess ... why ya actin' like a pauper?
I'm holding my bucket up now, and I ain't goin' Home until it's as full as it was created to be.
The trick will be getting rid of me.










