Hairbrush

Today is picture day at St. Mark's. If anyone else has a house like mine that day is filled with a bit of anxiety over whether a certain three year old is going to allow her hair to be brushed, or pulled back, or is going to go with her usual "messy hair" look that she loves. This probably stems from memories of my own picture days, figuring out what to wear and hoping for a good hair day. When I was little our prize for having our picture made was the little black comb each of us was given so we could freshen up in the few moments before the photographer called "next".

So today I put a small hairbrush in my box and we talked about hair. The funny thing about hair is that most of us want what we don't have. Those of us with curly hair would love for it to be straight, while all my friends with straight hair say they would love some curl. Some of my friends would love to have any hair at all. We put it up, pull it back, color it and style it. Think about the times and ways hair is described in the Bible. We know that Esau had red hair and that Samson had long hair. We also know that long, long ago, a woman named Mary loved Jesus so much, she got down on her knees and dried his feet with her hair.

What would it take for us to give Jesus all of us, from the soles of our feet to the tips of our hair?

Playdough

When I was little I loved playing with playdough. I still do. There is still something comforting about rolling out shapes, making cups or bowls, or animals with it. Playdough sculptures are short-lived, the minute you finish one masterpiece it's time to squish it all together and start over. Playdough doesn't last. All of us can remember the sadness of leaving a masterpiece out too long, only to find our snake or duck or tree dried out and brittle. At our house we love making playdough and a fresh ziploc bag of purple playdough was what I brought in my box today.

As I showed it to the children and started kneading it in may hands, I talked about two stories the playdough brought to mind. The first was of Jeremiah, who was sent by God to observe a potter working at his wheel with clay. The potter was making a cup or a bowl, but somehow it was spoiled, so he mashed it and molded it and reworked it into another one, this one strong and fine and ready for use. The second was when God created the earth, and formed man from dust or clay on the ground.

I think, if playdough had been around in Biblical times, the prophets might have talked about it. While I like the idea of being a strong, finished vessel of clay, a beautiful cup that is filled with the Holy Spirit, I think I am more a work in progress, like a squishy playdough ball. God is constantly molding me into what I am supposed to be at the moment.

What is God creating of you today?

China Tea Set

The guesses for what I had in my box today were very funny. I gave the clue that it was very old and the guesses were, Lego's, a sweater, and lipstick! But instead, today I had an old toy tea set, in it's original box. It had been my aunt's when she was a little girl, and when I was little, it sat on a high shelf in the playroom. My grandmother (Sarah) told me I couldn't touch it, but when I was older she would get it down so we could have tea parties together. The playroom was stuffed with everything, books, dolls, blocks, my father's electric train set, but all I wanted was the tea set. So one day I stood on a chair, and got it down to play with it very carefully, and of course I broke a saucer. I then very carefully put everything back in the box, so that you couldn't tell the saucer was broken, and put the box back on the shelf. I'm not sure how my grandmother found out, she had a sixth sense about us misbehaving, but she did & I was punished & then she told me no matter what I did she would still love me. Now I have the tea set, on a shelf, waiting for my daughter, Sarah Frances, to be old enough to play with it.

Telling this story then led to talking about the garden, and how even though the first people could touch anything in it, all they wanted was what was forbidden. From the beginning of time we have always wanted what we couldn't, or shouldn't have. We all have apples in our lives, the tea set on the shelf that is attractive in part because it is off limits. We all covet. From time to time, we will all choose to touch what we shouldn't. And poor choices almost always have consequences. Thankfully, grace means no matter how many times we break the tea set, God's love will always be there for us.

Back to School

Parents everywhere are rejoicing as by this time of year everyone is back to school. The first chapel back is always fun. The new kindergarten students serving as acolytes for the first time looked so proud, and a little unsure, as they processed. In honor of backpacks and making lunches and the return, for many of us, of routine, I brought an alarm clock in my box.

This clock is older, and it chimes the hours and will chime at a certain time if you set it to, although it is too old to have a snooze setting. In our house everyone has an alarm clock. Mine goes off at 5:30am, so I can go to the gym. My husband's goes off a bit later, and he leaves to run. The older boys are supposed to be up around 6:00am, to slowly shower, eat breakfast, make lunches, and be ready for the carpool at 7:00am. Round three of wake ups are around 7am, when my two at St. Mark's repeat the process so they can be at school by 8am. And then every once in a while there is the day. The day when, for some reason, the alarm doesn't go off, it doesn't ring, or buzz, or turn on loud music or if it did the soundness of our sleep prevented us from even noticing it. The day when we all wake up and realize we are going to be late or have missed the start of school already. And while I try to get everyone to pack up backpacks and pick out clothes and be as prepared as possible the night before, on the day, the day when we oversleep, none of those preparations have happened either.

When I think about the story of the ten bridesmaids, the ones waiting patiently for the bridegroom. The ones who fell asleep while waiting and half of them woke up with lamps that were out and no way to light them again in time, the ones that miss the banquet, I think of that sense of panic when we sleep through the alarm. That sense of confusion, of waking up and wondering what time is it and then looking around at your room, and then realizing you've missed it. Whatever it was-no matter how important-you aren't going to be ready in time.

We never know when opportunities to serve Christ are going to present themselves. We never know when he's going to come back. And so our hearts need to be prepared for him all the time, so that even when we oversleep, (as God knows we will) we can still make the party.