Switch

If I were you, and you were me,

For merely seven days,

The week that followed, we would see

Each other’s irksome ways 

With empathetic gaze.

Funny Money

Money is a funny thing;

Some claim that it can talk.

Others spy their money fly

As swiftly as a hawk.

Money is a funny thing;

Some think it grows on trees.

Others know that money’s flow

Should drive them to their knees.

Money is a funny thing;

Some pay it too much heed.

 Others feel it can reveal

A heart of grace or greed.

The Gift of Grace

“For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8 KJV).

When I first met my nurse, I decided to give her a gift sometime. I soon knew, too, it would be that red soup mug I had seen in a catalog. But as the time drew near to give her the gift I had ordered, I started to chicken out.

“What if she refuses my gift? What if she wonders what would compel a mere acquaintance to give her something? What if she hates soup?” I stuffed the box back into my closet; it was safer to chicken out.

Wait! If the box fit in my little backpack, I could decide what to do when I saw her next. That way I could still chicken out and she would never know.

Since the box fit, I took the soup mug along and ended up giving her the gift. The whole thing seems silly now; why had I almost chickened out?

We take a risk when we offer someone a gift. The person might refuse it, hate it, or get the wrong idea about the giver of the gift.

God’s grace is also a gift. He offers it to anyone who believes, who sees a need for His unmerited favor. Some refuse it; others try to earn the gift. But the very essence of a gift is that it’s free.

And when we ask for God’s gift of grace, we also receive a new heart, which gives us the desire to live the Christian life. God’s grace is a free gift that enriches a life forever.

That soup mug I gave as a gift could soon be filled with goodness and warmth. If we embrace the gift of grace, our hearts will be filled with goodness and warmth as a result of God’s free gift.

The Pharisee in Me

Last night I donned my whitest sweater—

What better way to show the mud she’d fling at me?

So finely frilled, not pilled, merino—

My cuddly, coddling sweater, ever fresh, stain free.

But later on I sought a mirror …

And found a guilty face, enlightened eyes cast down.

That muck she’d slung? It’s camouflaged, for

My whitest sweater is a grungy, goatish brown.