God just put a memory into my head, of a beautiful, thin, glamorous, and very kind girl I met in college; her name was GLO. 

She truly did GLOW With God’s Love and Grace, and for that reason alone, she was one of the very few people I’ve ever looked at and said “wow! She’s great! I want to be like that!” 

(Normally, I’m like “this is how I am, that is how they are–by God’s Design– and each person has stuff in them that helps them, and each/that very same person has in them stuff that doesn’t help at all.” 

Like, for better or for worse, it’s just like it is what it is. And after TRULY Meeting Jesus and Being InDwelt and Seeking God’s Face EVERY day, it’s more about “ok, this is where I am now, and THAT over there is The Standard that Jesus Hath Set.” 

So it’s not about “I’m great” or “I’m trash,” coz most traits, features, personalities, behaviours, etc., can DEFINITELY be useful, as in Ecclesiastes 3. 

A time for all things. Even rancid lipstick has a use, aka photo shoot, or colouring on a stretched canvas (as long as you either seal it with resin or just use it as a prop or backdrop or even just photograph it and make it digital. But I digress.)

Anyway!

This GLO, one day, got a huge submarine sandwich for lunch, and though I don’t remember who else was in attendance at this noontime Bible Studyish fellowship meeting, I DO remember how and how much I was baffled, attempting to envision how one would be able to take a single nibble of it, much less finish the whole thing. 

(My TMJ is a constant nuisance, pulling shenanigans left and right, and as we all know, the whole eating in public thing was a thing.)

And SUCH a filling-filled thing would SURELY fall apart and get all over her books, her backpack, and her lovely, elegant, simple, attire… right? 

But the WORST thing, the biggest barrier to attempting such a feat of culinary and nutritional adventure was the whole “Getting ketchup and salad dressing ALL over one’s face. And shirt. And shoes. And earrings. And chignon” thing. (Coz everyone knows that food all over one’s face is worse than anywhere else, since allergic reactions, breakouts, and just…it’s not a good look, you know?)

But she fearlessly made quick work of the delicious-looking creation, and contrary to my vicarious terror of oozing mustard and italian honey ranch, her skin and her very makeup both remained PERFECT. 

(OK, the lipstick abandoned ship pretty much immediately, BUT that was before those long-wearing formulations were available everywhere).

Anyway, in playing back the memory a few times, I realised that she wasn’t eating particularly slowly, but she WAS pausing to assiduously and determinedly make rampant and non-hesitant use of a friendly and helpful paper towel tucked into one hand. 

Aka her secret wasn’t to AVOID the mess, but to CLEAN UP the mess after every bite. 

She REALISED it would be messy, she did NOT waste time in wringing her hands once it happened, or even avoid the dish just COZ she knew it WOULD happen. 

She was FOREWARNED and FOREARMED and UNDERSTOOD the not-even-RISK. 

She HAD an action plan in place. 

She did NOT skimp on wiping her mouth after a small or not-visibly-messy bite. 

She knew what to do and she did it. 

She didn’t complain about how much of a pain or a waste of time it was, for she KNEW and SAW and EXPERIENCED the benefits of taking care of a mess immediately. 

The way God put it in my head just now was “she wasn’t afraid of a mess coz she knew how to clean it up. And just coz she knew it COULD be cleaned up easily didn’t mean that she slacked off to save time. She did it RIGHT the first time, and didn’t grow weary in ‘well-doing.’ She realised that avoiding the mess would result in avoiding the BLESS…ing…and that just coz there’s a mess doesn’t mean that one has to SIT in it. Or LIVE in it.”

I Pray that we BOTH (moi and mwy sweet rweaders–sorry, someone forced me to watch videos of baby deer frolicking about and looking SO CUTE!) are able to make use of this helpful wisdom that God Dropped onto my head (just before a friendly, cute, and DEAR(-ly beloved) chicken enchilada dropped its goodness all over *my* bag and sunglasses (which is handy, since I (likely) looked like a large DEER in the headlights. Sigh.)

Anyway, much Love In HIM Whom we serve (YAY FOR JESUS!),

sb