Monday, June 21, 2010

Obscurity Is A Myth

Just this past week, I enjoyed a week of being alone in my home.

Ralph and both girls went to church camp (2 chaperone's, 1 camper) in South Carolina, and I had a great time all by myself. The bad thing however, is that at night time, I am not used to being alone in the old creaky house with multiple doors, hallways and rooms.
I found myself wishing for company.
Got that old 25 caliber pistol and put it on the nightstand, but it's not something that actually inspires a good night's sleep.
(I especially hate it when my hairy daughter stands on the edge of the bed in the middle of the night and softly "woofs".)

After our summer campers got home from their church camp, they were exhuasted and were desperate to get home so I volunteered to clean the church van.







The next night, I drove it home from the church parking lot and opened the doors:
At least 25 bottles of half empty bottles, hair doo-dads, wet towels, 3 dirty socks, 1 tennis shoe, a pair of soured wet swim trunks, 15-20 ink pens, multiple bags of cheezits and an opened box of cocoa-puffs (thank you Abby) which emptied and sent 50,000 of them rolling to the front of the van every time the brakes were hit and then rolled to the back on each acceleration.
All the way to South Carolina and back.
As I cleaned the van last night in 100 degree heat/humidity, I was feeling pretty alone.
Whine whine whine
pant pant pant pant
According to the dictionary,
"Obscure" means "..unknown, unimportant or having no meaning..."

But according to 2 Chronicles 16:9, God's eyes are constantly searching to make us strong in every job if our heart is right.

My heart...not my activity.

Is anything obscure in a life of following God?

Part of me is uneasy with the idea that I'm truly never alone and God and Heaven's occupants are always watching me.
Remember that I think Earth is a stage.

But I'm also inspired by the idea that every moment matters to Him.
To God, there are no obscure followers.

That thought, friend, made me feel better last night as I washed the
Bayou Meto Baptist church van in the dark.

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