I threw a glance at my brood and swam to the rocks. My friend assured me she would supervise the girls while I made the trip back to the car. When I last saw them, they were splashing in the water wearing their modest christian swimsuits. I smiled. A short skip along the trail brought me to my Sienna to grab the forgotten mask. The parking lot was empty as I strode back into the forest. Except a bird call or two, it was silent as I walked the return path. After five minutes, the thunder of the river eased into the sound-scape.
I clamored down the rocks and took a deep breath before I jumped in the river. The temperature of the glacier runoff is a shock no matter how prepared you are. I dove and at once, hot and sweaty gave way to cold as I swam to my girls. As I approached, my friend yelled, "Oh good, you're back! We've been waiting for you!" She had a wicked glint in her eye. I looked at my children who were grinning back at me. They looked less christian than when I last saw them.
We were at a local swimming hole known for its scenery, wildlife and rock formations. Rock formations that contain large deposits of clay. In fact, if bored and if all responsible adults had left the area, you might smear clay over your entire body. With enough time and determination, you could transform yourself into a mud sculpture, fit for the pages of National Geographic. My earthenware eldest shouted, "Mummy! We are having a clay-cial!" My friend, smiled and replied, "You would pay hundreds for this service at a spa. But I'm teaching them for free!" I stood astonished as my little grabbed her mask. My eldest rubbed clay on her elbow. "I missed a spot," she muttered. I shook my head wondering why she never used soap with the same intensity.
Despite its strange beginning, it was a glorious day, spent laughing and swimming with friends. The clay dried, was washed off and then reapplied. On the way home, the girls giggled about their "clay-cial." Even now, the picture of three girls, covered head to toe in mud, has stayed with me. Truth be told friend, I feel like God has allowed a lot of mud to strike my family in the last few years. Not the expensive mud either! Consequently, I have struggled not to accuse God as his providence has worked in the life of my family.
Have you ever wondered if God knew what he was doing? Ever done your best, worked hard, only to have someone cover your efforts in mud? Is your heart aching over one so covered in filth you no longer recognize them? Sometimes unpleasant events break into our safe worlds. Mud happens and it can be heartbreaking.
There is hope for those who find themselves soiled and worn. Our God does not shy away from messy situations. Psalm 34 reminds us that, "many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the LORD delivers him out of them all." God is not shocked when the dirt starts flying. God has done a lot with the stuff over the ages. Genesis 2 sees God making man out of the dust of the ground. In the 8th chapter of Mark, we find Jesus using dirt and spit to restore the sight of a blind man. If you or a loved one is sporting mud, understand it can serve the master's purpose. The prodigal son in Luke 15, found himself deep in filth. Yet it was this very condition that brought him to his senses. You have no reason then, to fear the dirt you see. As a follower of Jesus, you know the truth that washes us clean. That is reason to rejoice. Take heart, keep standing and call out to your King.
I John 1:19
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
I am praying for you this week.
God is sovereign Dear Heart, over the storm, over the flood and over the mud.
xoxK
