Saturday, April 25, 2009

Sand Paper

My kids are like sand paper. Sand paper is rough and irritating and really good at smoothing out rough patches. Sand paper is used to remove the splinters and defects in a piece of wood. I have lots of rough edges that need to be removed if my life is going to be a blessing to those around me. My children often show me the selfishness and pride that I effectively hide from myself and others most of the time. With them, I see most clearly how I horde my time and energy to do things that please me alone. I see that I am motivated by what will make me happy and not what pleases the other person. Because of them, I see that my love is the love of word and not of deeds, and I am humbled and brought low. I see that the love that God has for me is an active love, and I see how far short I fall of the love that He has called me to.

And, because of them, I see what it means to die daily with Jesus Christ. My daily death comes when I choose to put down the rake, and push a swing instead. My death with Christ happens when I sit down and slowly savor a book instead of vacuuming one more step. My choice to die daily shows love for those around me when I order my days in the way that will bring the most joy to my family and others instead of scheduling my time to protect time for me and my private enjoyment.

The piece of wood that is fashioned and smoothed has little choice to resist the work of the sand paper in the hand of the artisan. I on the other hand, have a choice that must be lived out on a daily basis. Will I allow what I have seen to shape my life and make it a blessing to others, or will I continue to live for myself?

Monday, April 20, 2009

Writer's Block

When the computer is inaccessible, I am a Hemingway (Yuck, I really don't want to be like him.) just waiting to be discovered. Then the time comes to try to write, and I find that not even spell check can tidy up the mess that my wild thoughts make of the screen. I've been working for some time on a blog about the unfortunate finish of the Boston Marathon, but it seemed like a waste of time for me to type let alone for you to read. Maybe, I will try again another day. . .