The Potty Bucket and the Single Parent

Excitement was high as I surveyed my camping equipment. Some were new items. Some were worn but ready for a second life of adventure, much like myself. At the top of the list was an orange Eureka! 8-person tent. It didn’t matter to me that we were only a 3-person family and two of the three were tiny people. I was dreaming big. A Coleman 2-burner stove, 2 footlockers of gear, sleeping bags, and camp chairs rounded out the list. This was going to be a great weekend.

In a few days my toddler, preschooler, and I would be traveling a grand total of 5 short miles from my parents’ house, our new home in a new state, to our campsite in a nearby state park. But I knew better. The journey to this point was a very long one. The camping gear I had lost a year earlier, along with life as I knew it, was being redeemed. With my passion for camping still intact, I was about to reintroduce my tiny people to the sheer bliss of spending an entire weekend outside.

As I opened the instructions to the massive cabin disguised as a tent, I was greeted with a few words of caution.

“This is a large tent; Set-up is both faster and easier with two people.”

“Two people.” Well, isn’t that just as peachy as the color of its fabric? Yet another reminder of my single state. But that’s okay. I have the help of my parents. And YouTube. Eureka!

As I worked on my camping spreadsheet and double-checked my packing lists, I was struck with another interesting dilemma. I was now a middle-of-the-night bathroom visitor. This had not been part of my nightly routine in my former camping life. Ironically, this new phenomenon was probably caused by the very two people that I could not leave alone in a tent while I trekked to the bathhouse.

There had to be a solution to this very odd, very specific situation. I embarked on a treasure hunt; and as always, Google didn’t disappoint. I discovered the potty bucket.

The Lowe’s 2-gallon bucket, lined with a trash bag and paper towels, rimmed with a foam pool noodle, complete with a bucket-handle toilet paper holder was pure DIY gold.

That bright blue plastic throne traveled to many a campsite. And I’m sure it caught some strange looks from neighbors while unpacking. But then again watching a graceless erecting of Eureka! probably contributed as well.

Potty buckets and giant tents. That’s what single-parenting can feel like. There’s some awkwardness. There’s a lot of improvising and forced creativity. Flexibility is required. It can get messy and exhausting. The term “do-it-yourself” takes on a whole new meaning.

But so does the word “help.”

Remember, “This is a large tent; Set-up is both faster and easier with two people.”

This is a hard life; Surviving is both faster and easier with other people.

Single or not, we are all made to set up camp in community. To lean on each other like tent poles. To camp out in the wise company of others. To light a campfire of motivation under each other, spurring one another on to love and good deeds. To settle into a circle of encouragement.

We were not made to live a DIY life.

Single parent, you are seen.

Those battles you are fighting… God’s gone before you. He flights for you.

That paralyzing fear that grips you… God provides everything you need.

Your shattered heart and broken dreams… God comforts those who mourn. He is hope and He gives hope.

That heavy loneliness you carry... God promises to never leave you.

That overwhelming exhaustion... God’s grace is sufficient for you. His strength is made perfect in weakness.

So, no matter where your rocky trail has led, you can bring your plastic thrones and too-big tents, your footlockers of broken pieces and weariness, and find rest at the true throne… the one of grace and mercy.

Eureka!, indeed.