Sunday Inspiration

Is it still Sunday? My writing time this afternoon disappeared with a whoosh, into the whirling vortex of:

1. Taking Pongo to his first obedience class ... where one of my kids was strutting some really AWESOME social skills. Eeps!
2. Taking Eliza out on a mommy-daughter date. Treats from Yogurt Planet and browsing/candle-sniffing  at Anthropologie are where it's at, friends.
3. Planning our home edjamacation for the week so I don't wake up Monday morning in a cold panic. I mean a mild sweat. Wait. What do I mean?

Ahem. We now return to our regularly scheduled, reflective and serious Sunday post. 

"but we have this treasure in earthen vessels that the excellency of power may be of God and not out of us." - 2 Corinthians 4:7

I took this award-winning photo at the Houston Museum of Natural Science  last week (details later). No, it's not Ali Baba's cave. It's a giant amethyst. Not much to look at on the outside (in fact, a museum guide informed us that they obtained the rock for $50 since some farmer just wanted to get a big rock out of his field) ... but inside? Brilliant. Gorgeous. And very, very sparkly.

Awash in its wonder, I jumped on the following train of thought.

I am, to my shame, often judgmental. That is, often prone to make sweeping judgments about folks I see or meet, based on how they present themselves. Whether it's the mom on the blanket at the park showing an eyeful-and-then-some of cleavage, or the tattoo-covered girl slouching down the street, or the parent who drops her child off at my house without a hello followed by six hours of radio silence ... I have my opinions.

Oh, and when I'm not busy despising other people, forgetting how Jesus cheerfully reclined among the tax collectors, the sinners, the smelly fishermen of Galilee, I can stay pretty busy dwelling on my own faults and shortcomings. Like, say ... being judgmental. And around we go!

We're all rough rocks on the outside. Oh, sure, your surface may be shinier, more polished than mine. And mine may be a bit more cleaned up than hers. But at a passing glance, there often isn't much to distinguish us from our mundane surroundings.

But inside! Hew open that rock, and ah! The treasure! If we could see what He sees ...

We slap price tags on ourselves and others. Fifty bucks, tops.

He knows what's inside -- or what could be there, what He longs to create in there if we'll let Him -- and already paid full price.

The highest price.

You, my friends, are each a treasure. You're breathtaking, beautiful. You glitter, reflecting His light.

Never forget it.