I came upon this the other day. I think most of you are aware how Evie marches to the beat of her own drum and how she is definitely a square peg. It bothered me for a while, I wondered if I made it happen by being my strange self and buying her funny toys and not letting her watch normal t.v., all those things I get teased about. As a matter of fact I remember crying the first time she got made fun of, we were at Auntie K's and she was running in a circle wearing(over her clothes!) a cape, hula skirt and burger king crown and snorting. But now? It just tickles me. She is such a creative soul. If you can't tell, that's a mermaid princess in a hammock under a chair in our dining room. I find little tableau's like this all the time but I was impressed with this one. She tied a scarf to make the hammock! I'm not certain when, or how she learned to tie knots but it's sure fun for me. Hahah, that was sarcastic because you know just because she tie them doesn't mean she can untie them!
So anyway I was reading a book last night and I found something I wanted to share. It was a sermon in just a random novel. The Language of Sycamores by Lisa Wingate (sent to me by my book fairy!). The preacher stands up and he has four buckets; three of them are old rusted things with holes in them and one is brand new and shiny. He holds them up and asks which you would rather be? All shiny and new or old and rusty? Well the story he tells is that he picked them up back of the church from the sandbox area after a heavy rain. The one that is all shiny and new and perfect had held the water until it became stagnant and black and the grass around it and under it was brown and dry. The old imperfect ones on the other hand had lots of holes that let water flow through into the ground, leaving their insides clean and the grass green. The book says "It's the same with people . It's those little nicks and dents and imperfections of spirit that allow us to flow out into a thirsty world. It's our scars that allow us to relate to the scars of others, our suffering that that connects us to others that suffer." The preacher asked which you would rather be, perfect or imperfect and he held up the shiny new bucket so you could see the nasty black mold growing on the inside of it and then he showed the clean insides of the old rusted imperfect containers. Perfect or imperfect?
Isn't that a lovely thought?