Play-Doh and Prayer
Mary in the Kitchen by Sarah Reinhard – CF106: Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution
My three-year-old has discovered the joy of Play-Doh. I insist that she keep it at the kitchen table, which sometimes makes for verrry interesting additions to our meal later on.
My table, you see, is made of long planks. It’s delightful, really, except for the fact that things have a way of getting stuck in the cracks and crevices between the boards. My way of dealing with this could involve cleaning and scraping those cracks every day. Instead, I tend to attack them a few times a year and use place mats to help prevent it.
My mother-in-law, who is a stellar housekeeper, assures me this is how SHE approached the table back when it was hers. So I don’t beat myself up about it.
As I was watching my three-year-old dig into her rainbows of Play-Doh and thinking about the interesting chunks she’ll probably add to her spaghetti later, I couldn’t help but glance down in between the table.
And then I wondered about the cracks and crevices in my life.
I’m due for confession, and the way I know is because I’ve been getting annoyed with people who usually don’t ever annoy me.
I think maybe I’m also due for some extra prayer time. I always pray to start my day, because I’ve learned that when I don’t, I’m not armed for my day. Lately, though, it feels like there is nasty stuff piling up on me, filling up the cracks and crevices and waiting to show up later.
It’s all too easy to say No when my three-year-old asks to create the colorful mess known as Play-Doh. The mess it creates, though, is a small price to pay for the creativity it sparks and the time it buys me.
It’s all too easy to become so busy and distracted and full of myself that I forget that I’m supposed to be full of God…not in a self-righteous way, but in a humble, full of grace way that Mary shows me, again and again.
This week, I think I’m going to try to interrupt my day — even if I’m experiencing a strange surge of productivity — and insert some prayer. I’m hoping that, like the Play-Doh in the cracks of my table, it will stick with me and change me.
Image courtesy of nocklebeast on Flickr.com.