I didn’t plan outdoor playtime this morning. I only walked out the front door at 7:30 AM because I had a raunchy diaper to take the trash. But, as is their usual, my kids followed me outside and as the breeze blew across my still greasy face and ridiculous bed-head, I decided to just go with it. The kids were half in their pajamas, with only diapers on their bottoms, the dewey grass wet around their ankles and knees. We kicked the ball, it flew high in the wind. The little man made his way slowly across the lawn on his little radio flyer scooter. It was lovely, unplanned, grace from poop, poop grace. (Not to be confused with booger grace, which is also very useful)
Eventually they climbed in the wagon that usually blocks our front door and I pulled them and their kickballs into the backyard. Almost immediately, my daughter brought me some sidewalk chalk. I listened patiently to all of her requests to draw shapes and animals, hearts and boats. But, when they ran off to explore their playhouse I picked up some chalk and without thinking wrote the word “grace” across the concrete. When I looked over my art I found that it was smack dab in-between two splats of bird poop. Again, in the midst of poop, grace.
Isn’t that just the way Life is? Isn’t that just the way God works? He’s always trying to direct the eyes of my soul to his beauty, to breathe his grace, which is fresh and needed amidst the smell of poop.
Today very well might hand you some poop situations. If you’re a mother of young kids it may be literal and if you’re not in that season, it may be metaphorical poop. My life has taught me that in poop, there is almost always grace, and even the potential for laughter, if only you have eyes to see.
Have you found grace in poop lately? Do you feel like you’re buried too high and too deep to open your eyes to look for it? Be strong, keep looking, if I can pray for you, I will.