We, Like Crayons, Have Gone Astray


“Let’s be patient,” I remind as DeCelie nearly tears off the lid of the new box of Crayola crayons. She is so excited. I might be even more excited. Color time just got more awesome.

We open the yellow and green striped box, like a treasure chest, and I inhale the waxy smell of nostalgic childhood wonder. I take care to lift the colors and learn their names again.

"Cerulean blue."

"Shocking pink."

"Macaroni and Cheese." 

I love new crayons.

But tomorrow I’ll be less enthusiastic. Tomorrow half the new crayons will be broken down into choking hazards...scattered about in places they don’t belong. And by the end of the week, I may or may not be calling them all kinds of other colorful names under my breath...graffiti-enabling, laundry-load-looting, heater-tanking, back-breaking thieves of ease...

But just when I go to throw the bits away they give me this puppy-sick feeling in my gut. The feeling that remembers….remembers what it was like when they were new. What it was like, when I was first with them at the tender age of fresh imagination. I see them in all their assorted rainbow colors and I remember something else...His rainbow and His promise.

Now I can’t be so mad at these crayons. Now I can sort of empathize.

We, like crayons, have gone astray.

Photo by Jen at Flickr:  http://bit.ly/1r9tA5I  /Text mine.

Photo by Jen at Flickr: http://bit.ly/1r9tA5I /Text mine.

I am like these crayons. Made to express the artist. A treasure, named uniquely. Full of dynamic potential. And fragile...broken and prone to wander in places I don’t belong.

I remember how Christ too can sympathize with our weakness but never once gave into temptation, never once broke under sin’s pressure or wandered away from holiness - but instead broke Himself so that we might be made whole again.

Remembering His saving grace - I gather the crayons, rescue them from their garbage graves, and stick them back in the box like soldiers for tomorrow’s fight. I notice most of them can no longer stand and I begin to think of ideas for how I can redeem their brokenness, like Christ redeemed mine…

Maybe tomorrow we can melt them down into one whole new crayon? Or maybe I’ll improvise off of that one Pinterest idea I saw, line them up in a rainbow spectrum and reanimate them with heat down a canvas with a hairdryer. A rainbow would be the perfect symbol, really. It tells the story of His great promise...His promise to blend all believers into one whole new name, in Him. It would remind, daily of His promise to have mercy...to redeem...and to be patient.

Patience. We all need more reminders of that.



P.S. This post was shared with Holley and her friends,
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