Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Lady Bugs and green slimy pits

I don't know if your home is like our's but these little critter's have just about taken over.  But have you ever noticed that once they are on their backs they can't get up and in the end they die?  They are really cute.  They don't harm anything.  As a little girl I enjoyed "catching" them.  They can fly.  But once on their back, that's it.  So, since I have a "warpped" sense of humor, uh um, (our song director announced it to the church Sunday) I have been pondering this.  How many Christians are like a lady bug?  They look cute, pretty, handsome, good, on the outside.  They don't bring harm to anyone.  But once knocked down and on their backs, that is it.  I don't have an explanation as to why these bugs can't get up.  I tried to quickly google and research it, but who has the time?  But how long does it take us Christians to bounce back after getting knocked down?  Smack on our backs?  I have even watched these creatures struggle.  They lie there kicking their legs.  But nothing happens.  I wonder if they could be heard are they screaming for help?  Or are they just pitching a good ol fit?
I have to admit, as I did to the ladies in class a few weeks ago, that my level of compassion has hit rock bottom here lately.  I mean bottomed out.  Nothing left.  One of the boys was having some issues and mom was drained of just about any compassion.  Then the preacher got some sort of stomach virus.  I wanted no part of it so I stayed as far away as I could.  I offered tea, jello, crackers, you know, but I didn't get close.  The next week guess what.....Yep, I had a touch of something related to a stomach virus.  No one was here to show compassion.  Not that I was deserving or anything, but I was desperate.  I happened to think about a syringe of Phenegren that someone had given us a year or so ago for one of the boys.  I desperatly went through the cabinet and found it.  When I got the stuff out, OH MY WORD!  That was all it took for me.  If I wasn't sick before, I was now.  That was the nastiest looking stuff I think I had ever seen.  UGH!  I threw it away fast.  No way in the world was I going to smear that stuff on my wrist.  But as I explained to the ladies, that is sometimes how I think my heart and attitude must look to "Daddy".  Like greenish, brown, nasty, slimmy, phenegren.  I get knocked down into a slimmy pit, knowing and longing to get back under "Daddy's" wing.  You know that place of sweet fellowship and safety?  But it is so much easier to stay in the slim.  So much easier to stay on our back kicking and screaming and pitching our fit.  Until we die.  Just like the lady bugs.  Unless someone comes along to flip us over.  To scoot us on our way.  Some will come along that will be of no use to us.  But then there is our Father.  Our Daddy.  He comes along, puts His hand out, way down in that nasty pit and pulls us out.  But only if we reach up.  With empy hands.  To recieve.  I have been recieving alot here lately.  Buttercups are blooming everywhere and I just noticed my hydrangea bush has buds on it.  Bradford pear trees are almost decked out in white blooms.  Spring has almost sprung.  Temps are perfect.  Sunshine is bright.  Attitude is back in check. 
Eyes are open ready to see.  Empty hands are open ready to recieve.

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