Sweat Equity

St. Michael says I have absolutely no concept of time.  (And, in turn, I have been known to refer to him as the Human Alarm Clock.) I started a project in our tiny little kitchen Saturday morning that I was positive I could finish by late afternoon or early evening.  And I did finish . . . about one-third of it.

The thing is, what I thought of as a little change (with big results) took a lot longer than I thought it would.  (I think I hear St. Michael guffawing in the background.) And it was a little bit harder. In fact, it's a good thing that the completed one-third looks soooooo yummy 'cause, otherwise, I'd be seriously tempted to leave everything else just like it is.

But when I look at the results of all that work -- even though it was nastier, harder, and more time-consuming than I had imagined it would be -- I can't help but admit that it was worth it.  And after a short break (if that's what you can call spending the week teaching my sixth- and seventh-grade babies), I'll ready to put on my sandin', paintin', stainin' clothes and go at it again.

Spiritual change has been like that for me, too, sometimes.

There are times when I've been tempted to say, Papa, let's just stop right here.  I'm too tired and too hurt, and this is all just to plain messy to go on any further. Please, PLEASE, can't You just leave me here?

Those are the moments that He's stopped me, taken me by the shoulders, and refocused me long enough for me to look back with Him at the work we've already done together and remember His pronouncement that it is good.  And I do have to admit that our finished product--no matter how small a part of the whole--is good.

After a few more deep breaths, I feel the want-to return, and I know that I will expend myself, I will invest my resources, I will allow myself to experience pain--all for that reason, that just as His creative work was in the beginning, it is now: It is good.

And thus it is worth whatever the cost.

Excuse me while I change into my keep-on-keepin'-on clothes . . . 

Grins and a little sweat,

Pamm