But I Don't Wanna Grow Up!

Earlier this evening, Lauren brought me a pair of shoes she'd outgrown. Try as she might, there was no physical way her 18-month-old tootsies were going to fit into size-2 shoes. She fussed and fumed over the situation, and I tried to tell her that those shoes were for babies and that she was now a big girl. No go. Whether she could not understand me or simply refused to accept the facts, I don't know, but she never truly figured out what the problem was.

The funny thing is that this situation reminded me, a bit painfully, of my spiritual walk. The Lord reveals areas in which I need to mature, but I don't feel quite ready to grow up just yet. I'm content wallowing around in my old sin nature. He provides the means for me to repent of and remove these stumbling blocks, but just like Lauren, I'm determined to either ignore them, overlook them, or just plain refuse to admit to them. I want those baby shoes! I don't want big girl shoes. I was comfortable with the little ones.

In reality, I really do need to grow up. Baby shoes are designed for prewalkers. They weren't meant to give the support that a toddler requires, and often after being on a baby, they've grown worn and bear scuff marks and an occasional tooth bite (for whatever reason, my kids always chewed on their shoes). Early on in my Christian walk, I worked on growing my faith, telling the truth, and not getting cross with my siblings (baby shoes), but now I need to work on other besetting sins such as controlling my temper, setting my mind on things of God, and taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ (big girl shoes). Even if I don't want to do these things, they're the next step in becoming more Christlike - in growing up spiritually.

Big shes will seem awkward at first, and they probably won't be very comfortable. But if I continue walking in them, before long, they'll start to break in.

And then it will be time for the next size up.

Monday's Mountains

Nearly every Monday, I see seemingly hundreds of Face Book statuses bemoaning the beginning of the work week. People seem to need an extra cup of coffee, wake up with a migraine, or feel depressed for no reason.

Personally, I think Monday has an undeservedly-severe reputation for being cruel. For me, Monday used to mean the end of Jon's work week. It now represents the weekly start of our regular routine. After our comparatively-chaotic weekends, I'm rather ready for our steady schedule.

And really, if it weren't for Monday's mountains, would the weekend's down-hill stroll be nearly as wonderful? I rather think not. Mondays and weekends go hand in hand: the first makes the second all the sweeter.

Monday means new beginnings. It means a fresh start. It means we've just enjoyed two days off of work. It means we've just enjoyed our church fellowship. And it can be refreshing.

So, thank you, Monday, for bringing a new start to our school week, for helping us to regain the symmetry lost through the weekend. I greatly appreciate you.