Monday, August 1, 2011

"Dirt is matter out of place."
Oliver Lodge

Our house has a sand box in the back yard, just under the swing set.
Our summer days are full of sand.  And mud.  And water.  Lots and lots of water. 
I really do love watching the kids play and work together.  Just wish it wasn't so messy....

I have a love/hate relationship with sand. 
I love how it keeps my children occupied for such a long time. 
I hate how messy it is. 
How it seems to linger, for days after you think you have cleaned it. 
How it finds it's way into things it has no business being in...
in our food, on our beds, in the baby's hair.

My eldest son, Isaac dreams in sand. 
He can think of nothing better to occupy his day with than
digging, smooshing, burying, covering, stirring, scooping,
and anything else he can think of, with sand. 
He has been this way forever, born with a specific desire to touch all things messy.

I set aside certain times during the week for such activities,
hoping that it might prevent him from getting into trouble. 
His curiosity gets the better of him.  It seems though he can not help himself.

I watch as he pours water to moisten the sand.
 He smooths it and pulls it into a hallow. 
He pours more water, just enough to make the sand workable. 
He pats his brow to wipe sweat from his head, leaving behind a smear of mud.
 Before long, his hands and feet are covered in mud, his thoughts are deep into his newest creation. 
He seems oblivious to his siblings running, playing in the warm sun,
only lifting his arm to shield it from stray fingers or a soccer ball kicked by his brother. 

My life is echoed here.  It resonates in these thoughts.
Drawn by my sinful nature, I fill my days with my own dreams,
my own desires, my own messes...

My Heavenly Father prompts me, leads me, yearns for me. 
Reaching out to shield me, He whispers, "Just Me." 

To be full of Christ, and empty of myself.
To pour out, so that He alone can fill.
To be cleansed. Washed new.

"Yet you, LORD, are our Father.
   We are the clay, you are the potter;
   we are all the work of Your hand."

Isaiah 64:8

My Redeemer takes my messes, my sins.
I am made new every morning...

"For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
   so great is His love for those who fear Him;
as far as the east is from the west,
   so far has He removed our transgressions from us."

Psalm 103:11-12

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