A Smile.

God gives little blessings all the time--in the form of a moment to capture, or an extra-special little something that says "Child, you are loved lavishly, extravagantly, above measure, running over..."

This picture is an example. Today I was working on a painting project with some kids at my table, when I was accosted by a 6-year old child on an iPad2. 

"Mih Fitsow, Smow!" (He majors on smiles--not good articulation).

I smiled. Later on during the day I found a KidBlog entry entitled "Ms. Fisher" 

The words were, "Ms. Fisher is My sdrdgB." He read it to me--it said, "Ms. Fisher is my teacher." He sounded out the word "teacher" all by himself. 

Yesterday, the smile came in a bouquet of yellow mums. Sweet smells first thing in the morning. "I have a surprise for you!  Here!" Sunny smile was gleeful, and announced confidently, "If these die, just let me know. I have more in my garden!"

Then there's the moment I look down at two writers, heads bent together over a clipboard and I overhear one saying to the other, "No, don't write the word there. You need a space… ok… now we are writing the word 'it.' You are going to have to sound this out. First write '/i/'…that's lowercase…then "/i/-/t/. There's a /t/ at the end… good..." 

And I thank the Lord for the child who didn't let his buddy copy, but patiently guided him through every letter and sound and space. And what's more, the other child let him help! Amazing. 

Then there was the friend of mine who came by this afternoon and cut out 25 sets of sight word cards--60 words each--and wiped down tables with antibacterial spray, and sharpened all the pencils, and got a good music jam going in the mean-time.

Then there was my dad, who laughed his head off the other day as I recounted workplace drama; laughed himself to tears, in fact, while I repeatedly said (being completely tied in knots, of course), "Yes, I know it sounds funny--except that it's really happening!" and I remember for the millionth time why he makes such a good administrator himself. Because he sees humor in the predicaments of politics. And then he moves on.

God doesn't always wait for me to ask--sometimes He gives good things that we didn't even know we needed or wanted. Unlooked-for flourishes that come home like a letter from a friend, or a like gift when it's not my birthday.

Prayer for the Broken-Hearted

"O blessed Jesus, may we find a covert in thy wounds. Though our sins they rise to meet us, how they fall next to the merits of You!"

Sometimes I'm surprised by the fact that I'm a sinner. First I screw up. Then I scrape my self-respect off the pavement, trying to save face after saying something arrogant, or criticizing one of my colleagues, or gossiping, or one of those other "respectable" sins that I fall into so easily.

Maybe "surprised" isn't the right word. It's just that someone with my excellent character can't fathom what just happened when the evil let loose. That was sarcasm, in case you didn't catch it dripping... What should be remorse for sin boils down to the feeling that I am quite a good person, and quite proud of it, and therefore there shouldn't be any sin. In fact, the appearance of any imperfection is annoying at best, because it affects my reputation and temporarily smudges the crystalline self-image that I have of myself.

And this is where the prayer for the brokenhearted comes in--as David says, "A broken and contrite heart, O God, this you will not despise." Confession is God's love language. He falls for it every time! While my pride, arrogance, and self-exaltation make show of stubborn independence, repentance drives me back into God's heart. No day in my life has passed that hasn't proved me guilty.

And yes, today I've been proven guilty. Today I have nothing in my hand to offer God--no respectability, dignity, self-worth, sound judgment. I don't even have the self-control to make myself feel and think and discern the right things--especially in the face of people that I know to be wrong. I have criticism. I have pride. I have gossip. That is my native language. My "mother tongue" is self-righteousness.

But Jesus demands that I shed that righteousness for His, that I shed the ways of the old country and humbly ask for what he offers. I come from a place that is graceless--a place where even I can't accept grace because I try to be good on my own merits. Christ in his grace asks me to relinquish this, in order that He may conquer all in his own name. Though our sins may rise to meet us, how they fall next to the merits of You!

A princess came to the door.

We invited her in, poured her tea from a teapot, seated her in our singular blue armchair, and watched Miyazaki together. 

What a pleasure and honor to have such fancy friends as she.