Imitation

My husband has sprouted quite a beard since his November 2008 retirement. Its snowy whiteness and increasing length have garnered a number of stares. Remarks from older church ushers as well as younger children have linked Dave to Santa Claus. Earlier this summer two children entering Chik-Fil-A spotted Dave and softly questioned each other saying, "Ho, Ho?" In a recent bubble bath, our granddaughter even imitated Grandpa with her own version of a beard. Clever, eh? We find it endearing when children desire to mimic those they love.
How much our Heavenly Father must love it when we imitate the attributes He treasures: love joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, just to pull from Paul's list in Galatians 5. Moving from a legalistic "I ought," that seeks to earn God's favor or aims to pridefully receive the praises of men, to a heart response of "I truly take joy in my Father," involves sanctification. Measuring the motives of the heart takes brutal honesty, the type the Puritans often displayed in their confessional prayers. The skill in burning away the dross from my heart takes me time and quiet. The Bible's admonition to "Be still and know that I am God," allows the Holy Spirit to purify the imitating I do of my Heavenly Father. And I want that for His glory and my good.

Being messy

I'm baking chocolate chip cookies this afternoon and freezing them as fast as I can. Who isn't tempted to consume warm cookies right out of the oven? Brent, Becky and Austyn Grace visit here next week and then we'll eat those thawed confections together. Since all the Wolfes like underbaked cookies, the first batch out of the oven can be little more than warmed dough. Getting those gooey morsels just right requires a balance somewhere between softness that would make the Keebler elves ashamed of their hard crunchy cookies and globs of amorphous dough that break apart. The underbaked cookies taste great, but they sure create sticky hands and poor looking specimens that the Iron Chef would banish from his kitchen.
Another messy scene occurred when we went to Brewster's in Statesboro, GA. There, Austyn Grace got a baby ice cream cone for her second birthday. She devoured that thing with relish and wore about as much as she ate. We laughed, she giggled, and the two dogs we had with us tried to lick Austyn Grace to pieces.
Somehow I wish the messes I can get into were as inconsequential and as humorous as cookies and ice cream. But as adults we realize that some personal interactions, poor financial or career choices, or unexplainable life situations leave messes in their wake that have no easy answers or quick remedies. Cleaning up after cookie baking or ice cream spills is far easier. Nevertheless, I do clean up kitchen catastrophes and wash toddler clothing. Can I do any less with the other messes? Cleaning up will take more time and work, and humor will not usually hallmark them, but those clean-ups can have far-reaching repercussions for good in my character. Hmmmmm. That'll give me something to ponder as I do the dishes.