My husband is a man of many talents; one is being a professional actor. He considers acting to be a hobby which happens to pay.
He has told me many interesting stories from being on set. One thing that struck me is a simple conversation he has heard among the technical crew.
When Techie A is handing a piece of equipment to Techie B, Techie A will ask, “Yours?” to which Techie B will respond, “Mine.”
It’s important to note that Techie B only responds, “Mine,” once he has a solid grasp on the piece of equipment being handed to him. It’s at that point, when Techie B responds, “Mine,” that Techie A will release her grip on the piece of equipment.
This back-and-forth conversation is only used when the technical crew is handling expensive equipment, such as lights, camera, lenses, things which cost thousands—or often tens of thousands—of dollars. It’s a way each tech person states they realize the value of what they are being entrusted with and are ready to take care of it. That simple, two-word conversation carries great power, understanding, and responsibility.
What if this simple question and answer were used at other times? Would it make a difference in how we treat situations in life?
Such as the moment when a baby takes his first breath. God looks at the parents and asks, “Yours?” Would the parents understand the weightiness of their responsibility of loving this child, of sacrificing for this child, of raising this child, before answering, “Mine”?
Fast-forward several years. A child goes to her first day of school. The parent looks at the teacher and asks, “Yours?” Would the teacher realize how important it is to not only present knowledge, but also to empower the child with a thirst for learning, before answering, “Mine”?
Fast-forward a decade. A teenager is hired at his first job. The parent looks at the employer and asks, “Yours?” Would the employer realize his responsibility is to not only make a profit, but to set an atmosphere in the workplace where this young man can learn to be a valued member of the company, before answering, “Mine”?
Fast-forward another ten years or so. A young woman, dressed in a white dress, walks down the aisle to stand by a young man. Two sets of parents look at the person standing by their own child and ask, “Yours?” Would this young couple realize the solemn weight of, “for better, for worse; for richer and for poorer; in sickness and in health, until death do us part,” before answering, “Mine”?
Fast-forward many decades. A woman is sitting by a hospital bed, holding the hand of the man she loves. She looks up at the heavens and asks, “Yours?”
Now. Here is the one time when the other Person, the Creator of the Universe, the One Who created and loves both the person lying in the bed and the one holding his hand; this Person understands the weight of the question. He alone can take that precious soul to His bosom and look into the eyes of the wife saying goodbye to her husband and say, “Mine.”