Cleaning My Plate
One of my favorite parts of the week is when I get an email from Lulu’s preschool teacher telling me her version of what they learned this week.
Rarely does her story match Lulu’s.
Frequently I’m the one who learns something.
The dramatic reenactment below is based on Lulu’s chapel lesson this week, as relayed by her teacher.
Seeing that today is the start of Lent, I thought the message was quite relevant to the next six weeks of our lives, and in my case, hopefully much longer.
Today I got up and had breakfast. It’s National Pancake Week, so I had a heaping stack of fluffy pancakes, doused in sticky, delicious maple syrup. I was running late and had to get Lulu to school, Gigi to the dentist and myself to the gym, so I just left the plate on the counter.
For lunch, I came home and threw together a big, fat peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it on the same plate. I had a bunch of emails to return, a few Facebook friends to stalk and some pigs in helmets to exterminate, and so, running late, I just left my plate on the counter again.
Dinner came around, and in between carpooling and sending Twitter updates, I threw together some veggie burgers and fries with lots of ketchup. Lots and lots of ketchup. After updating the blog and responding to comments, packing lunches and reading bedtimes stories, I was too tired to wash my plate, so I just left it on the counter and went to bed.
What a mess.
Well, if you haven’t figured it out, the plate represents a day in our life.
All the crumbs, slops and drips on the plate are fear, stress, negativity and shallow worries.
When we pray, it takes everything in our heart and makes us fresh and new.
But we rarely take the time to slow down and clean our plates. We just keep tacking things on until all we have left is a big mess.
Worse still, we can’t taste any of the good things that life has to offer because we are just piling them onto our dirty plates.
Just like our plates need to be cleaned, so do our hearts.
It may mean giving up a few of the things we feel we “have to” do to take the time and do a few of the things we truly “need to” do. But it’s worth it.
I’m willing to sacrifice some things. I want a clean plate. I want to taste all life has to offer me.
Guiltlessly. Unapologetically. Fearlessly.
Because I know how truly delicious life can be.