Morning. Early morning. Everyone else was still politely snoring in the cabin nestled in the north woods of Wisconsin. Not Emmalyn.  She had just turned two. And two-year-olds have an amazing capacity for getting up at the crack of dawn—or before.

Emmy’s mom, though, was also up that morning.  She’d just made a cup of hazelnut-chocolate coffee and was sitting on the deck overlooking West Spider Lake. The fragrance of pine trees and the freshly ground flavored beverage hung heavy on the scene.

Emmalyn helped herself up into her mother’s lap. Cocooned in blankets, the two pondered the sounds of chatty birds busy in the thick spread of trees. After a few moments of silence, Emmy had a question. “Mamma, did God make these trees?” Her mom, Rachel, replied, “He sure did!” Silence. A pause.

Then Emmy looked down at the blue waters of West Spider Lake. “Did God make that lake down there?” Again came Rachel’s reply. “He sure did!” More silence. Another sip of hazelnut-chocolate coffee for Rachel. At this point, Emmalyn looked down at the ground, mostly a mix of sand and grass--the "sandbox" she plays with by the hour.

“Mamma, the sand here is so fun to play with. Did God make the sandbox for me?”

“He sure did!” There followed still another pause, then came a look on Emmalyn’s face that suggested she was in the middle of deep thought. Snuggling tighter, she finally commented, “Wow, Mom, God sure is one cool dude!”

“He sure is!” agreed Rachel. For refreshing candor and honesty, you can’t do much better than a two-year-old!  But her story triggers a caution for us grown-ups.

Some of us never truly learn to see the grandeur of God.  We’ll occasionally notice an unusual sunrise or sunset.  But most of the wonder of our awesome God is simply left unseen, unnoticed.

• We call a dandelion a weed and fail to find wonder at the way its cottony seeds are blown and scattered.

• We plant daylilies for ground cover and rarely pause to look deep inside their richly hued blooms or consider the architecture of these magnificent flowers.

• We can hear a woodpecker and never bother to wonder why, with all that beak blasting, its brain doesn’t get addled.

See what I mean?  We need to learn to see the grandeur of God. Many of us limit our definition of God’s grandeur to the “big” things: seashores, deserts, full moons. But the majesty and glory of God are as evident on the back of a ladybug, or a helicopter maple seed as they are in a climb up Mount Everest, a hike through the Redwoods, or a dive into the Great Barrier Reef.

Notice one of the places where Emmalyn found it: something as common as sand. Could it be that you—like me—need to learn to see the glory of God in common things?

May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord rejoice in his works, who looks on the earth and it trembles, who touches the mountains and they smoke!   -Psalm 104:31–32

This is just one of the 26 stories featured in the book, Kids Say the Wisest Things. Would be honored to have you check it out here: http://kidssaythewisestthings.com/

Four-year-old Caleb charmingly engaged his three-year-old sister Lucy in a knock-knock joke:

Caleb: Knock-knock!  Lucy: Who’s there?

Caleb: Knock-knock!  Lucy: Who’s there?

Caleb: Knock-knock!  Lucy: Who’s there?

Caleb’s mother, Lynnette, informed us that this repetition went on approximately twenty-five times. At the twenty-sixth iteration of Caleb’s knock-knock, Lucy stared him in the eye and declared, “No more chances!” With that, she spun on her heel and left Caleb sputtering.

Have you ever done that? I’m not talking about the knock-knock joke that goes on forever. I’m asking if you’ve ever told someone else, “No more chances!”

Maybe she failed you too many times. Maybe he forgot you too many times. Whatever it is, you feel that a reasonable limit was “offered” and now you have decided to pull the plug.

Hear me carefully. I’m not suggesting that if you’re in an emotionally or physically abusive relationship you should continue being a punching bag. I’m talking here about the more routine issues of offense that we all encounter (and cause ourselves).

Do we go down the path that Lucy took and declare, “No more chances”?

Remember when Peter approached Jesus and said, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” He may have been startled at Jesus’ response. “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times” (Matt. 18:21, 22). Some versions translate the phrase as “seventy times seven.” Clearly, Jesus is driving us to the truth that there is no limit, no statute of limitations on forgiveness.

So when it comes to forgiveness, are you generous or stingy? Do you prefer Peter’s limited number of seven “forgivenesses”? Or do you easily migrate toward Jesus’ generous idea of unlimited forgiveness?

You never run out of chances with Jesus. He’s asked us to forgive the way He forgives. Do we?

Notice the language of the familiar1 John 1:9 (esv) promise: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Please observe that there are no exceptions, no exemptions in this verse. There is no fine print. No statute of limitations. Nothing there at all about “no more chances.”

Knock-knock.

Who’s there?

Jesus.

Jesus who?

Jesus Christ, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He who assures us, “I—yes, I alone—will blot out your sins for my own sake and will never think of them again” (see Heb. 13:8; Isa. 43:25 nlt).

Behold, I stand at the door and knock.

If you enjoyed this story, check out Jon’s new book, Kids Say the Wisest Things. It’s filled with great stories of kids who have something to teach us adults. Preorder now at Amazon, Moody Publishers, CBD, Barnes and Noble, etc.

Now that Spring has sprung, prepare ye for the onslaught of insects, critters and other pests.  Which calls to mind a recent visit to the hardware store.  For no reason in particular, I waddled down an aisle featuring products promising a virtual assault on every creeping thing in the yard. 

My favorite is the prize-winning spider killer known as Miss Mufffet’s Revenge (I’m not kidding).  This arachnid antagonist promises to kill spiders inside and keep spiders outside. 

If your pest problem is of the bunny business, consider stocking up on Critter Ridder, a rabbit repellant that Mr. MacGregor would surely endorse. The Ortho company offers Deer B Gon, as well as Dog and Cat B Gon.  Weary of fighting moles and gophers?  Bring home, The Giant Destroyer—garlic tunnel tubes that last 10-12 months.

Now let’s say you’re dealing with a larger animal issue—like deer eating your garden.  Then, by all means, get your hands on Shake Away brand “Coyote Urine Granules.”   Or, grab a supply of Booneeez B-Gone.  This real fox red scent promises to “put nature’s own invisible stop sign to work for you.”

But if you’re serious about getting rid of snakes, the choice for you might be either Snake Stopper or Dr. T’s Snake-a-Way.  Use with confidence, as these ready-to-use granules have been university tested.

I can’t speak for any of these products’ effectiveness.  But my tour down the aisle of Death-to-Critters got me to wishing there was something like a repellant we could buy that would keep us from sin itself.  Nothing is more persistent, pervasive and potentially destructive than sin.  So wouldn’t it be great if we could simply sprinkle a little powder—or give our souls a light dusting of something that would keep sin away?

Come to think of it, we have such a resource!  It’s not a spray or a scent or a bucket of granules.  It’s a lifestyle adjustment. Galatians 5:6 tell us how to “apply” this sin killer:

But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh.

Don't know about you, but I need to watch my walk!

I would never have noticed the kid walking into the grocery store had he not worn that shirt.  The one with tongues of red-hot flame leaping from the hem of his waist all the way up his chest. It reminded me of a shirt I’d worn twenty years earlier.  

When our kids were in high school, I was a volunteer for our church youth group.  Somehow, our small group was composed mostly of fringe kids, teens outside the church and—quite honestly—out on the fringes of life.

Alex was a boy who was emotionally not quite right.  He often showed up in a button-down shirt plastered with flames. I was desperate to connect with Alex—and failing.  One night he challenged me: “I want you to take this shirt and wear it to work.” I figured there could be no harm other than a few strange looks from co-workers. 

So I put that shirt on (and made it a point to stay holed up in my office!).  But then I needed to grab a Coke at lunch.  Naturally, I bumped into my boss on the way.  And then I found myself locking eyes with the president of Moody Bible Institute.  He squinted while I scooted away to my office. 

Announcing to Alex at youth group that I’d faithfully fulfilled his challenge, there was a bit of thawing in the relationship.  I grew to love his sense of humor.  Grew to love him.

I’ve often wondered where Alex is today.  Is there any observable spiritual pulse at all?  What about his friends, the others in our small group—are they still out on the fringe?

I wonder about the boy who was clinically depressed.  I wonder about the girl who wore a spiked collar. I wonder about the triplets who came to our backyard for hot dogs and hamburgers—and called it a “home-cooked meal,” acknowledging that they typically didn’t use plates at home.

I wonder about all of them but know little about any of them. Yet even as I write these words, I’m reminded that their stories are not fully written and their redemption is not out of reach.  Hope may be closer than we know.  So what if rather than merely pondering them, I prayed for them? 

Why haven’t I?  Why shouldn’t I?  And why not now!

What about the fringe people in your life? 

We clean the bowl…but do we clean our soul?

Last week I made the somewhat crude assessment that we give attention to dirty toilet bowls…but sometimes insufficient attention to our dirty souls. In the spirit of two-way conversation, I invited your feedback and now share some of the comments you submitted.

Edna wrote, “Tidy Bowl…Tidy Soul.  I like your thought…but I do not like cleaning bathrooms!”  Then she added, “Keep up the good scrubbing work—it will never be a drain on you!” (Thanks for the puns, Edna!).   And your point is  spot-on: soul cleaning is something we really DO have to “keep up.”

Cindy shared the following: “I used to hate it when I went to God to confess the same sin again and again.  I would rather wait until I had a different sin to confess, figuring He is probably tired of hearing the same thing again, anyway.  But God is not like that at all.  He is just waiting to hear from me.  It got me thinking that perhaps I should start going to Him before I commit that same sin again. The more I talk to Him like a daddy, the more I realize that I do not want to do that same sin. Instead, I just want to talk to Him.”

Wow!  Profound stuff, Cindy.  Thanks for your insights.

Russ gave this issue of soul-cleaning a creative touch composing the following poem he’s titled Soul Cleaning.  It’s a fitting way to close out this blog.

I woke early, got out of bed

Shaking a bit to clear my head

Look, oh no, dirty toilet bowl

Did I think about my dirty soul?

 

I went to the kitchen for some food

To start the day in a good mood

I ate, I washed the cereal bowl

Did I think to stop and wash my soul?

 

By noon, I’m ready for more food

I want to continue my cheery mood

I ate, I washed my salad bowl

Did I consider my dirty soul?

 

Late afternoon, time for more food

To set up for the evening mood

I ate, I washed my pasta bowl

I confess, I forgot my dirty soul.

 

Evenings here, time for snack food

To go to bed in a good mood

I snacked, I washed my snacking bowl

I must take time to wash my soul.

    —Russ Caforio