Whose Mess Is It, Anyway?

While driving to work this morning, I saw something that brought back memories of a situation from a few years back. Then, as now, I was an ESOL teacher in an elementary school, spending the majority of my time working with Kindergarten children.

A young boy at a table in front of me was struggling to color a picture. The crayons weren’t quite the right colors he wanted. When he pushed them, they tended to not stay inside the lines. Several crayons broke; the paper got wrinkled. I could sense the frustration rising, the tension building. I asked if he would let me help him.

He quickly said OK, so I slipped into a chair next to him, and asked him which part of the picture he’d like to work on, and what color he’d like. I don’t recall exactly today which part or color, but I remember he did respond. I got the color he suggested, and put it in his hand, and began to guide his hand, showing him that coloring slowly and smoothly helped the crayon stay inside the line.

But he wasn’t happy with the speed at which the picture was being colored, so he began to apply pressure to the crayon, trying to force my hand to move it more rapidly. I had him look at the part we’d colored together, and compared it with where he’d worked alone. His response? “I can do it.”

So I backed off, and instead of intervening, decided to only give suggestions. He tried to follow a few of them, but found he couldn’t quite do it. Perhaps there was a maturity issue. Perhaps the frustration was flooding his system. At any rate, after a few minutes, he announced unhappily, “I can’t do it.,” tossed the crayon into the basket and crumpled up the paper, threw it into the waste basked and went to get a book to look at.

Now, what on earth can you see at 6:15 in the morning, driving down a dark country road in a light drizzle that could bring back such as memory as I had? Easy.

We pass several churches on our way to work. Most have small reader boards that announce pastor’s names and service times. A few have larger boards on which are displayed various messages. And it was one of these that caught my attention this morning. A small country church offered up a great message:

“If you give God your mess, He’ll turn it into a masterpiece.”

How true it is, but how difficult it is to do, sometimes, too. Like that little boy, we frequently ask God to help us, but we try to hang onto the crayon, hoping to have some influence on the outcome. Sometimes the Lord doesn’t act directly, but tries to give us suggestions, perhaps in something we’ve read or heard. But we try to do it on our own. And what happens when we reach the point that little guy did, wailing, "I can't do it!" and thrusting our hands into the air?

History is full of people who came to that realization, and they quit trying. They walked away from the potential victory, and focused on something else. I could have helped that little boy produce a nice looking picture, but he wouldn’t let go. God can do something wonderful with my life, and yours, if we’ll just let go. As long as I hang on to it, it will remain a mess. Only when I release my grip and let Him take firm control can it become the masterpiece He has in mind.

Have a great day, and don’t push the crayons so hard that they break.

Dr. G