Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Craig and I took the girls to an indoor swimming birthday party. It was a lot of fun.
Have you ever felt embarrassed to return to something after being gone for a long time? Like calling a friend after missing her birthday or going back to a weekly Bible Study after months of neglect? Well, if you have, you can relate to how I feel about coming back here after being away for such a long time. But, it is still my little corner after all, and even if the cobwebs need to be swept and the dust blown away, I am returning to this safe place.
Robert, Aimee and the three little ones moved back in with us a few weeks before Christmas. Each day I observe or experience situations that teach me something about our Heavenly Father.
Yesterday, Ethne said, “I can’t find any Washable Markers anywhere.”
“Did you look in the place where we keep them? In the laundry room, under the sink, in that box?”
“Go see.” I followed her as she opened the box to retrieve a marker.
I felt pretty proud of myself for knowing where those markers were because I have been spending a large chunk of my life finding places for all the extra stuff five additional people (and Christmas) bring into a house. And while organizing isn’t intuitive for me I’ve been intent on arranging it all into manageable sizes and determined to remember where I put everything.
So, Ethne went off with the marker and I squatted down to replace the box when I noticed that every single marker one was topless. It’s certainly was not as obscene as it sounds but for me it was pretty shocking. All the pens I’d carefully capped, sorted and arranged where left to dry out. I dumped the box and muttered silently. Why don’t they keep things in order after I’ve gone to all the trouble to sort it all out? All I do is pick up. I’m getting tired of always cleaning up their messes.
That’s when I knew the truth. For fifty-three years, God has been cleaning up my messes. Maybe I’ve improved in some small ways, but over all, it’s the same attitudes, choices, and struggles, over and over and over again. It’s easy for me to make messes and most the time it’s not on purpose and I’m unaware of what I’m doing. And He—He deals with it, because it’s my mess and I’m His. He’s my Father and what involves me concerns Him. He doesn’t ever get tired of having to take care of me and my stuff. I’m very thankful for this and will try to serve my loved ones the way He serves me.