At 33, people expect you to just know how to make a hard-boiled egg. I mean, how hard is it really? Yesterday, Zach learned exactly how hard it is. He needed a couple dozen hard-boiled eggs for his class. It wasn’t until the class was working on there observations of a hard-boiled egg and a fresh egg that they realized none of the eggs were hard-boiled, some were slightly boiled, but that’s about it.
Zach had to over come (and I’m sure he’ll continue to have to overcome) the joking and teasing about the fact that he didn’t know how to make a hard-boiled egg. He reviewed his steps with teachers around him and he has come to the decision that he problem is he boiled the water, then added the eggs, instead of adding the eggs and bringing it all to a boil.
I don’t post this to make fun of my husband, fact is, I don’t know how to make hard-boiled eggs either, not really something we do around here. The reason I post this, is because I’ve been thinking all day how life and everything we do is just like this.
We can do everything right, it looks right, it feels right – it’s perfect, but upon closer inspection (a crack in the egg), it all comes spilling out. How many time have I tried to say the right thing to make my sister feel better and instead I’ve caused a mass breakdown? How many times to well intentioned friends ask a simple question that unknowingly rubs salt in a raw wound? How many times have a thought I had the perfect plan and yet it all fell apart?
We are human. This is life. That is why we are asked to forgive and not judge, to love and not hate. This is why Jesus came to shoulder our imperfections – to help us be perfectly hard-boiled.