I’ll admit it:  I’m kind of a messy guy.  It’s never hard to tell where I’ve sat at a table for a meal.  There are usually more than a few crumbs that escape my plate and leave clear evidence.  However, I’ve never seen crumbs form the word “Paul” so one could argue that someone else was sitting in that spot.

I’ve been messy as long as I can remember, and it may even be a genetic trait.  My dad was a notorious spiller.  I could share many-a-story of his spectacular spills – stories our family still gets a good chuckle over years later.  All I have to do is mention the word “marinara” and a smile appears on the face of everyone in my family.

My son has a good chance of proving the messy gene theory because, when we eat at the same table, sometimes it’s hard to determine who sat in what spot.  But my wife, Lily, says I’m messy because I don’t eat properly.

Somehow, in all my years, I never learned to eat right.  If you ask me, this is a major slam against my mother who, after all, was the one who taught me how to eat in the first place.  But the curious thing is, it also incriminates Lily because she’s the one who taught our son to eat … and apparently he hasn’t learned to eat properly either!

Lily says the problem is simply that I don’t have my plate close enough to me, and therefore, things spill.  I am either sitting too far away from the table or my plate needs to be closer to the edge.  In fact, the other day she actually pushed my plate closer to me … and I promptly spilled something on the far side of my plate.  If she hadn’t have moved my plate I wouldn’t have spilled.  I get the blame but I’m telling you, it was her fault.  I wanted to pick up the food I spilled and place it on her placemat, but I restrained myself.

And, by the way, placemats are overrated, especially for messy guys like me.  A hard, smooth surface is much easier to clean and to quickly hide the evidence (one quick swipe, if you know what I mean) than fabric where the crumbs get stuck and remain for the CSI team (Lily) to investigate.

It really doesn’t matter if I’m spilling something on my shirt (and becoming more like my dad every day), or if I leave a ring of crumbs around my plate when I eat, that‘s who I am.  I’m messy.  If I’m going to be eating at your house, you have to be prepared for that, or reconsider having me over.

Here’s the thing:  We like to change people, but the reality is we can’t.  We can get quite frustrated with people who don’t want to place their faith in God.  We can try to change them, but it won’t work.  We can just walk away and not have anything to do with them, or, we can just accept them as they are and allow God to work in them.  Who knows?  God might even use you to push the plate a little closer to them.

Until Next Time!

Pastor Paul

Question: How hard is it for you to just accept people whom you want to see changed?