Inktastrophe
It seems like last Thursday that our kids were teenagers. People would ask, "What do you do?" and I would say, "I follow teenagers around the house. I shut lights off. It's a full time job."
Suddenly our teens grew up and had children of their own. And now, we follow grandkids around the house shutting lights off, vacuuming, mopping and hosing down the disaster area.
With six of them under the age of three, we have no idea what they're gonna do next. One minute they reach their tiny arms up to you and say, "I love you, Bumpa," and the next minute they're trying to roll your laptop computer down the stairs.
Claira is two. She enters a room and surveys it, searching for its highest point. A window ledge. A curtain. A lampshade. A chandelier. And then she attempts to climb it. The girl is part billy goat.
Just after breakfast one morning we turned our backs for four seconds, so she climbed atop our kitchen table, overturned a container of maple syrup, and began painting the table with it. Now, part of the joy of grandparenting is that you've learned by now that freaking out doesn't help. You laugh and smile instead. So when Claira did the maple syrup thing, well, I freaked out. Have you seen the price of maple syrup?
Thankfully my wife laughed and took pictures.
"Don't worry," said my wife. "It can be cleaned up." And she was right. Of all the maple syrup sculptures I've seen, this is undoubtedly the finest.
Reminds me of a young boy named Benjamin who decided to draw a picture of his sister. He pulled out bottles of ink and succeeded in creating an inktastrophe. Ink was everywhere. It was a mess. And ink doesn't clean up as easily as syrup.
His mother took one look at the mess, then bent down and kissed little Benjamin. "What a beautiful picture," she said.
Benjamin West would go on to become one of America's greatest painters. Late in life he remembered that day and said, "That kiss made me a painter."
I've been thinking a little about messes lately. You see, I've made a few. And I'm not alone.
Peter knew about messes. He was the Rocky Balboa of Jesus' disciples. The Vin Diesel. The Chuck Norris, if you will. Peter was the only disciple willing to try walking on water and the first to call Jesus "the Christ." But when the soldiers came, he denied that he even knew Jesus.
Did the mess he made exclude Peter from God's plan? Not a chance. Acts 2 tells us that Peter was the first mega-preacher. After his first message more than 3,000 came to faith in the living Christ.
God is at work. He sees past our messes and can use them as an essential part of our message. On the tombstone of Billy Graham's wife Ruth is this: "End of construction. Thank you for your patience." Philippians 1:6 says, "Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Your story is still being written.
Whatever mess you're in, remember that we serve a Redeemer God. He will use even this to create a beautiful picture. This failure isn't fatal. This pickle isn't permanent. This disaster hasn't disqualified you. By His grace, you still have something valuable to offer.
Now, I'd better go. Claira is coming over. It's time to hide the maple syrup, the laptop, and the ink.
Phil Callaway is a speaker, best-selling author, and host of Laugh Again Radio. Visit him at philcallaway.com
