Remember the old song, Kids Under Construction, by Bill and Gloria Gaither?
The chorus went like this:
“Kids under construction –
Maybe the paint is still wet.
Kids under construction –
The Lord may not be finished yet.”
Well, it’s not just the little folks that require refurbishing. Most of us still need our:
- Patience polished from time to time
- Kindness cultivated every now and then
- Joy rejuvenated on a regular basis
- Self-centeredness scoured away occasionally
- Faith uplifted once in a while
If we’re not careful, such realities can push us toward discouragement. Thoughts like these begin to peck away at our spirits:
“I’ll never measure up. Why even try? What’s the point?”
Might it be we’re even harder on ourselves than God? Might he actually take pleasure in our imperfectly right efforts toward spiritual growth?
Think of Charlie Brown’s small and scraggly Christmas tree. Imperfect? Definitely. Heart-warming and charming nonetheless? Oh, yes.
Think of the pleasure listening to a young child sing—off-key, with unsteady rhythm and incorrect words. But everybody loves the performance anyway.
Think of dust—how it shrouds our belongings and irritates our allergies. But sprinkle a bit in a sunbeam and instantly we’re mesmerized by the magical display of glitter and shine.
Think of the wrong word written or spoken at the right time and how the result can produce uproarious laughter.
When my husband Steve began his ministry, he was assigned to a congregation of mostly older folks. One Sunday the bulletin listed the first hymn as, “’Tis So Sweet to RUST in Jesus!”
And that brings me to Mrs. Bisso’s muffins. Mrs. Bisso was a member of that same church, and lived down the street. She loved to bake. It wasn’t long after our arrival before Mrs. Bisso began to regularly supply us with muffins. Sometimes she’d call at 6:30 or so in the morning to let us know she’d be over in a few minutes with fresh muffins for our breakfast. Hold the oatmeal!
Problem is, Mrs. Bisso’s muffins were always over-baked—rather thoroughly. That meant, even if we cut off the black bottoms, the sharp, charred flavor still permeated all the way through to the tops.
But dear Mrs. Bisso took such pleasure in baking for us, we continued to enthuse over her burnt offerings—batch after batch after batch.
All these thirty-some years since that time, we’ve occasionally remembered and smiled nostalgically about Mrs. Bisso’s muffins. After all, her heart was in the right place, and she gave so lovingly and generously of her time and effort.
You see? There is much for us to celebrate in the imperfectly right. And I think God does too.
(Photo credits: www.drexelchurch.org; http://www.highlandschristianfellowship.org; http://www.christchurchlikely.org.uk; www.salmonavocado.com.)
From the Inside Out 