Have you ever seen a baseball game on TV? I actually saw part of one the other night while I was washing pennies. I had no idea it was already playoff time. I didn’t even know who was in (other than it was NOT the Astros. Wait ‘til next year!). Anyway, years ago they used to have a segment called “You make the call” where they showed a clip of a controversial play, and stopped it before you saw the ump’s decision. Then you got to make the call and see if you agreed with him. I loved it.
Today was kind of a tough one for me. Chris was gone. She took my Mom to a doctor’s appointment in Houston, then went on to Bay City to take her Mom to a chemo appointment, also in Houston. Then she had to stay over and take her Dad to a doctor’s appointment in Temple. So this old married guy had to be a bachelor for a few nights. What made it so hard (other than missing her and scrounging for food – thanks Nathan and April for the supper each night!) was having to work at the house all day without her to bounce things off of. Like when I thought something should be tossed, but it was clearly borderline, I usually let her make the call (and her call is usually, “Save it.”). Without her there, I had to make the call, and be OK with living with the decision when she got back. I knew I was looking for two specific things: a small white jewelry box we never found and a black turtleneck shirt. I had two huge pile of debris left to go through while she was gone, and I didn’t want to miss anything. But to me it was just that – two huge piles of debris. To Chris it was two more possible sites for treasures. And to make matters harder, a church had donated us one of those shovels that is huge and flat (kind of like we used in Colorado when it snowed). This was my chance to put this new technological tool to good use and get rid of a lot much quicker. But it would also be easier to miss something.
Just to be safe, I started with the pile that used to be mostly books. They were in pretty nasty condition on the surface, so I dug in – literally. After three or four wheelbarrow loads, to my surprise, I actually came across a book that was unscathed – Horton Hears a Who. Good old Dr. Suess. I brushed it off and set it aside, happy to be able to show Chris I did salvage something. With my new shovel contraption, the pile finally dwindled away until the last page of the last book was scraped off the tile.
And then I had to move to “The Other One.” The pile that had the most chances of finding something that Chris would want to save and I would want to toss. What were her criteria? How does she decide? It should be easy – look at it. If it has mold on it, toss it. What’s so hard about that? But Chris looks at it – really looks at it. She sees through the mold and into the possibilities behind it. This pile would not go as quickly.
And it didn’t. I ended up touching just about every piece of stinkiness in that pile, looking for a jewelry box, a black shirt, and whatever else I could find. I put all the clothes I found in a pile, just in case. I even found a few vases and a gift we bought to give our grandsons at Christmas (can’t tell you what it is. They’ll still get it!). No jewelry box or black shirt, but a lot of other “possibilities.”
I got to thinking. How does God choose when it comes to us? Is he like me – a tosser? A little stain, a little sin, and off to hell you go. Like Noah’s day. “Toss ‘em all and start from scratch.” (Those were my words about most of the stuff in our house!). Or is God more like Chris – a saver? OK, I’m destined to lose from the very start here, aren’t I? Of course he’s a Saver! He looks past our sin and sees the little child inside who is scared and defiant and lonely and proud. He sees a treasure. And he loves. And he saves.
Romans 5:8 says, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
Father, help me see through Chris’ eyes more often – through your eyes. Show me how to be a saver. Amen
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