Silly Band Bracelet

It all started with a silly band. You know those flimsy, rubber band bracelets for kids? It started with that. Mine was blue and shaped like a star. It was important.

Weekly devotions during the teacher’s meetings at my school are interesting. Let’s face it when you’ve walked with the Lord a long time, those kinds of things can be a struggle—at least for me. Heard it. Read it. Saw it. Same old, same old. I love the mornings when the speaker decides to put aside any thought of trying to impress us with some new theological insight or an interesting take on scripture and just tell us stories of how God worked in their lives at a particular time, in a particular way. Their personal stories aren’t things I’ve heard before. They are fresh. They are exciting. They move me.

So 21 days before Easter Sunday this year, one of the teachers shared the story of a group of friends who set out to go 30 days without complaining. To help them with this, they wore a bracelet. Each time they complained ,they physically moved the bracelet to the other arm—and started the count over. The story goes that at the beginning the bracelets moved back and forth from wrist to wrist fairly quickly. The teacher's challenge to us that day—as she passed out a silly band bracelet to each of us—was wear the bracelet and try to go for 21 days—until Resurrection Sunday—without complaining.

I took my blue star and promptly shoved it on my left wrist. I’m always up for a good challenge. Don’t complain. No big deal. I have will power. I have control. Not! Funny thing about an adult wearing a blue star silly band bracelet? Your high school students will ask you about it. So I got to share the story and my challenge with them. Then you know what they had the audacity to do? They held me accountable. 

One morning, before class started, a pop-culture topic came up, and I weighed in. I let the full force of my opinion loose in no uncertain terms. After what could only be described as a volcano of words, molten opinion and critical ash, one of my students politely pointed out that I should probably move my bracelet to the other wrist. Busted! So I did. I moved the bracelet. It had been on my left arm for several days. Move the bracelet. Start the count over.

Can I just tell you how hard it is not to complain? (That was a complaint about complaining!) I even found myself redefining “complaining.” I seriously had these conversations in my head, “It’s not complaining if I’m just stating the facts of what happened, is it?” Real answer? Sometimes, even the facts are a way to complain. But when I made it days in a row without having to move my bracelet, I was more at peace and more full of joy than other days. Did things happen that were perhaps worthy of my voicing a complaint? Absolutely! But the calm and peace that accompanied not giving voice to those complaints was palpable. 

I did not make it to Easter without complaining, but I did make it to Resurrection Sunday with a quieter spirit and a clearer focus on the good things, the blessings in my life that are so easy to just pass over. I didn’t take my bracelet off after the 21-day challenge was finished. I kept in on for weeks after until finally, it got caught on a dishtowel while I was drying my hands and broke. (But I’m not complaining.) 

You know what? I had had it on my left wrist—going quite a number of days without having to move it—and now I missed the weight of it.  The reminder of it. The absence of that thin, rubber band was significant. 

My blue star silly band is gone, but my commitment to live more days without complaining—to count them and pile them up—is not gone. I’m still working on my first 30-day stretch. Will you join me? 

What’s on your wrist?