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Friendships can furnish surprises. Today, I'm thinking of an older friend who lived outside town in a house on top of a gentle rise. When I would visit, I usually parked beside the stream at the base of the hill because she had chairs along the stream in the shade of several trees. We enjoyed the tranquility of sitting among the trees, listening to the birds and trickling water. 

 It was during an earlier era when many homes didn't have air-conditioning. My friend lived in the country and enjoyed the breezes the location gave her, but her husband had cleared all the trees from the vicinity of the house when he built it. However, her love of trees finally won him over to let her plant one close to the house. 

She knew I was stopping by and would want to see how her tree was doing. I had been concerned whether she could keep it healthy since she had no easy way of watering it, like using a water hose.

I found her sitting by the stream. After a few minutes of visiting, she invited me to walk up to see her tree. Then she reached down to fill an old beat-up metal bucket beside the stream. I was horrified.

"Good grief! Why are you using that leaky old thing? You should get a newer bucket, or at least one that doesn't leak."

She ignored me and headed toward her prized tree with her bucket leaking precious water. Did I mention that my friend is also on the eccentric side?

"Did you hear me?" I asked as I dodged the water spraying out. "I'll gladly buy you a new bucket if that's the problem."

 She continued ignoring my clamoring as she bent over and gently poured the remaining water around her much-loved tree. She then stood and smiled. "Isn't it lovely?"

I had to agree. It was thriving and healthy looking. Then pointing down the hill, she commented, "There's why I keep my leaky bucket. Look at the hillside where you just walked." 

 I was puzzled and had no idea what she was talking about. Then I noticed many tiny wildflowers along the way we had traveled. They were all over the region between the tree and the stream but only a few elsewhere. I chuckled, "The bucket is your sprinkling can for the flowers—isn't it?"

She smiled and nodded. "The green grass and flowers mark my various paths. I try to vary it some each time."

Years have passed, but whenever I see an old, dented, leaky bucket, it reminds me of that incident long ago. I identify with that old bucket now that I'm in my 80s. I've had my bumps and bruises through the years, just like her bucket. But if I go to the source of Living Water each morning to be re-filled with His love and truth, perhaps it trickles out and leaks on others as I resolutely plod through my day. Because—as we all know—it’s what's inside that leaks out over time. Won't you join me on this path? We could walk together in the joy of His presence. May His love and grace spill on others along our way today.