We often miss God’s abundance, even if it’s as clear as mud between our toes. Take Carol, for example. The other day I was taking her for a walk when she stepped into a mud puddle. I could understand her revulsion had she been wearing shoes, but she wore her Tevas. She screamed, changed direction and made me take her back to the cabin. She missed God’s abundance in a free mud bath. Think about it:
- People pay a lot of money for this beauty treatment, and God gave it away.
- True to His nature He gave the best. The mud had been aged. Formed by tropical storms Irene and Lee, He added leaf and other plant matter and allowed it to age to a divine consistency.
- Carol pays money for perfume. This ripened debris was given with a profligate hand. To get an idea of its pleasant aroma, imagine the dozen roses your hubby gave you. Allow it to sit in a vase on the table for a week. Now empty it. The scent wafting from your sink? Heaven!
- She’s always pestering Neil for silky clothes—loves the sliding, slick texture against her skin. Yet with mud slathered liberally between her toes in the slickest of textures, all she did was squeal. (And not in delight I might add).Image by Rev Stan via Flickr
Next time you complain—think about it. It’s probably a blessing in disguise.