No Time to Waste

No question He can’t answer

No problem is too big

No doubt He can’t help overcome

No help He cannot give

 

No fear He cannot cast out

No wound He cannot heal

No Enemy is stronger

No storm He cannot still

 

No love we have can match His

No faith in Him enough

No works we do can save us

No sin can end His love

 

No hopelessness is lasting

No life without His plan

No future without heaven

When we say yes to Him

Nuts and Bolts and Baby Food Jars

The old garage was the one place we were not allowed to play.  It was dark and dusty and it smelled of damp wood, oil and rust.  Mom said it was dangerous because of all the tools, junk, and rusty nails. The lure of the forbidden and mystery of the unknown were counteracted, at least for me, by the spiders and the wasps.  We had to go in to get our bikes and fishing poles but we made sure they were near the door so we could just grab them. The two small dust coated windows didn’t let much light in even on a sunny day.  There was one naked light bulb in the center that barely illuminated the floor beneath it, and that seemed to make the corners even darker.

When Daddy was fixing the lawn mower or building something out there we were told not to bother him. His territory, it was a much grittier version of today’s man cave. We were surprised one day when Mom told us all to go out to the garage and help our father.  I am not sure, but I think we had been complaining about not having anything to do, so as parents of bored kids will do, they found something to occupy us. Daddy managed makeshift seats for us all, near his work bench, and spilled two grease soaked cardboard boxes full of nuts and bolts on top of it.  It was our job to sort them by size and type into little glass baby food jars that he had been saving in another grease soaked cardboard box. 

It certainly wasn’t what we had in mind for an activity, but we knew better than to add another complaint to the day’s list. We were dirty and tired by the time we finished, but satisfied to see all of the little jars neatly lining the shelves above the workbench, sorted and ready to use.  What makes a lasting memory?  Stepping into the unknown and working together toward a common goal.  Hmm, and I thought they were just trying to keep us busy.

It's Hard To Be Humbled

They say pride goeth before the fall

I don’t know if that’s true at all

One thing I know that’s very clear

Humiliation is always near

 

There’s nothing like a healthy diet

To impress a prospective client

He left with lasting memories

Of the spinach stuck between my teeth

 

We hugged, we laughed, and we reminisced

And claimed the other looked the same

I would have enjoyed our reunion more

If I could have remembered her name

 

The screen was dark and the mouse was dead

But it wasn’t panic that turned me red

I called IT and they rushed to begin

Solving the problem by plugging it in

 

They smiled and nodded as I walked past

But it didn’t take long for my ego to crash

It wasn’t me they were happy to view

But what was stuck to the bottom of my shoe

 

It’s hard to be humbled by life’s little jokes

But sometimes my pride needs a little poke

To deflate my ego and keep it small

And hopefully keep me from that fall