I hired a plumber to help me restore an old farmhouse, and after he had just finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric drill quit and his ancient one ton truck refused to start.
While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.
When opening the door he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.
Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.
"Oh, that's my trouble tree," he replied. "I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, those troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home and ask God to take care of them. Then in the morning I pick them up again."
"Funny thing is," he smiled," when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."
"Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, not let it be fearful.~~John 14:27
Now this is a story to which I can relate.
After spending 25+ years in the plumbing/pipefitting industy, I had to take an early retirement, but experienced many of those "trouble days."
I didn't have a trouble tree, but the experience of walking in the back door and hearing the words "Daddy's Home!!!" echo throughout that big ol' house would melt away any troubles that may have arisen during the day. Sounds of six small feet running across the hardwood floor accompanied by shouts of "Daddy!" and lots of hugs and kisses.
This would be followed by a struggle between our little ladies as to who got to pull off Daddy's boots.
No matter how much trouble occured that day or how tired the body was, "Daddy's Home!" meant it's time to play octopus. Daddy assumes his position on the living room floor, flat on his back. Our babies would run back and forth dodging the outstretched arms trying to grab them.
Thanks LUV W for sparking the memories. Methinks I'll engage them in a game of octopus the next time they come over.