The other day I was washing the dishes and J. was helping. I use the term “helping” in the loosest possible interpretation of the word. Her idea of helping is to obtain multiple (clean) spoons, stick them under the running water in a manner calculated to splash the MOST water onto the counter . . . and me . . . and the floor . . . then drink out of the spoon. On this particular day, because I opened a new package of sponges, she insisted on having her own sponge, a liberal helping of dish soap, and her own pile of dirty dishes to “scrub.” It boggles my mind how much she wants to be EXACTLY like me . . . and I’m sure all you enlightened gentleman friends of mine will be happy to know I’ve already got her in the kitchen . . . I digress . . . anyway, while she was hard at work (with way more effort than results) I was humbled and convicted by this thought. If only I consistently wanted to be like Christ as much as J. desires to be like me. And I know my (erratic) attempts are often just as “effective” and mess inducing as little J.—but no one can doubt how much her heart is in it and how much joy she derives in the process. Would that I would daily be like a child, His child, and take joy from the process.
~M.