It was clean up time first thing this morning. I heard the kids outside my bedroom door playing and when I slipped out of bed and opened the door I saw two happy little faces and one big huge mess. I vowed not to set food downstairs until it was cleaned up.
I really wanted to start the day off right!
Dustin and I started picking up while simultaneously distracting Colt from undoing all that we were doing. One of my nicknames for Colt is Tornado.
I think you get the idea.
We were making good progress. Dustin is incredibly responsible for just 6 years old. He knows how to pick up after himself and, for the most part, put things away where they go. All you moms out there know what I mean. He is a dutiful son. A sweet, helpful boy. If I could just get him to finish then talk. The kid can talk the hind leg off a mule.
And and I have no idea where he gets that from (wink wink). Poor baby, that apple does not fall far from the tree.
Just as the last toy was put into the right bin (yes-I have certain bins for certain toys) something caught the corner of my eye. The top drawer of his desk was cracked open. I went to push it closed (I like drawers closed all the way or little fingers find there way into them) it wouldn't move.
I opened it to see what was in the way and discovered about 500 crayons dumped out inside it. Just a heap of disheveled, confused crayons overflowing out of the shallow drawer. I asked Dustin what happened because Lord only knows. The most likely explanation was that Colt did it.
"Why are all the crayons in here like this?" I inquired.
Dustin looked right at me and said with complete confidence, "Oh, because it would have taken way to long to put them back in the box."
I couldn't argue with him. It must have looked overwhelming to a kid to even begin the tedious task of putting all those crayons back in their boxes one by one. Which went where? And once they were all back in Colt would probably just dump them out again. It was much easier to just shove them all in the top drawer and close it-mostly.
"I will put the crayons back for you." I said watching Dustin's face light up with relief. "You can go and play. Take your brother please ok?" Glad to do it, Dustin pulled his new remote control car out of the box (leaving the box and tiny Styrofoam bits all over the floor) and took his brother outside to play.
While I sat and sorted all the crayons into the giant crayon suitcase by color I thought about how these crayons represented the stuff in our lives, the stuff in a huge messy pile that needs to be sorted out but instead gets shoved in a drawer to hide because dealing with it will be hard work.
As I made piles of all the blue ones and then the green ones I talked to God for a while. I did not have to ask God to show me the piles in my life-those are clear as day to my conscience. I am not blind to the stuff I need to sort out. But I am guilty of hiding it.
I work much harder at making the outside look clean than I do at sorting out the inside stuff.
Its because I know it will hurt.
So I asked God for some strength and some courage. I asked God to be close to me. I asked God to sort out my stuff as the pace I can handle and to comfort me as we face together all the stuff heaped and piled in my heart, my mind, my life-one piece at a time-for His glory and my transformation.
I finished sorting all the crayons by color and put them neatly away.
Who knew God would meet me at a pile of crayons today?
I remain a work in progress. There is a lot more than 500 crayons in my pile. Good thing I have God to sort them out for me then.
Good thing we all do.