At the college I went to, Concordia-Nebraska, every student had to take a class called Human Relations. The course was all about learning how to care for other people. The professor was Herman, a quintessential wise older man, who had written the literal textbook about how to encourage others in your life.
Herman taught us that caring for other people was like “filling up their buckets.” We can only fill up other peoples’ buckets when our own buckets are full. Filled-up buckets were the key to successful human relations.
Herman practiced what he preached. He was always encouraging, always accepting. Grades didn’t mean much in his class. I think we even gave ourselves our own grades. Herman also didn’t get caught up on insignificant ideas like class attendance. He believed that if you made it to class, you learned. If you didn’t make it to class, you missed out.
If you know college students, you know how much they need someone to listen and encourage them. My friends went to Herman’s office to share their most harrowing break-up stories, their roommate drama, and their my-parents-don’t-love-me insecurities. One time, after a really jagged break-up with my boyfriend, I visited his office for encouragement and sympathy. I don’t remember him saying anything. Just listening. I really liked how he listened.
For twenty years, I haven’t thought about Herman or his class. Until recently.
Now that I’m almost 40, I see the wisdom in Herman’s bucket philosophy. We are all broken and hurting and needy. Everyone I know needs a little encouragement. They need their buckets filled with genuine compliments, heartfelt thanks, hugs, and love.
As I grow up a bit, become less self-centered, I’m learning more and more how the key to human relations really is filled-up buckets.
This means to listen to others without responding. To hug them. To ask how they’re doing. To care for them.
Herman’s other advice was that you can’t fill up anyone else’s bucket if your own isn’t full. I wonder, who filled up Herman’s bucket? Who encouraged him?
During the semester I took Human Relations, I think Herman’s wife died. Or she was really sick. The sweet old professor never talked about it. He never told the class about the hard times he was going through. Instead, he listened and gave and supported.
How was he surviving? Who was filling up his bucket?
Now I realize he must have had tremendous faith. He must have been encouraged in prayer. He must have felt God’s love.
As a mom, I’m always encouraging someone. Kids have leaky, small buckets that have to be refilled constantly.
The longer I’m in this bucket-filling job, the more I realize how much I need encouragement. In prayer. In inspirational Bible verses. In God’s love. In friends who listen and ask how I’m doing.
This is what bucket-filling looks like.
This is Human Relations.
Herman, wherever you are, you would be so proud.
