It's cold outside and my heels are dry- calloused and gray from the conditions outside and lack of attention. I wish that I could make them soft and alive again, turn their gray to a lively pink, their rough edges into fleshy pockets of shock absorbing comfort. I can't do that.
I've never been good with caring for things of importance- like my heels which exist for a reason. Without them I simply could not stand. Like a knee or a leg- my heel.
I'm ashamed. I don't want to show You my feet let alone allow You to scrub them pristine. If You saw them You would know all about this heart of mine. That gray, calloused, flakey heart that may go months before it shows another sign of life-- lub dup. That's what the textbook says it should sound like. Mine sounds more like yesterday's newspaper being tossed into the fire, breaking stories revealed just a day late, moments written down only to be tossed away.
I have sown so much with my youth group leading and my teen camp counseling, even my mission trip going and my "Yes, I'll pray for you" game plan yet I have reaped so little because I'm too lazy and arrogant to care for my own feet let alone my precious heart. I have left your house in ruins and run to my own- a home made of a thick, dead skin.
Haggai 1:5-9
"Guard your heart for from it springs the well of life."-- Proverbs 4:23
1 comments:
It was a happy day for him when he gave us our new lives, through the truth of his Word, and we became, as it were, the first children in his new family. JAMES 1:18 LB
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