The Dustpan Man Psalm 55:16-22 Our children were assigned chores as soon as they were capable of carrying objects. Putting trash in the garbage can, taking shoes to the entry closet and collecting scattered toys were ingrained before they could beg for Pop Tarts. As the kids matured and their abilities increased, the chore chart was birthed, and keeping house has been a joint effort ever since, While touring the house on my "who's-hiding-during-chore-time" rounds, my son's reflection on the finger-smudged dining room window caught my attention. Pausing stealthily around the corner, I watched as he swept the entryway. My motherly heart beat proud as he methodically filled the dustpan. I silently congratulated myself: Another child successfully trained. His wife will thank me some day. He has truly learned a life skill that will serve him well throughout his days. He will rise up and call me blessed. Interrupting my thoughts of maternal grandeur, my breath stuck in my throat as I witnessed a horror of horrors. With entryway dirt securely in the dustpan, my son crossed the living room carpet and gingerly dumped the direst, sand, rocks, leaves, hair, bugs and lint behind the yellow sofa. "HEY!" I blasted, a moment too late. In shock his feet left the floor and the derelick grin crossed his used-to-be-darling face. "How long have you been dumping dirt back there?" A pause . . .then "A while." His honest answer was barely a whisper. He told the truth . . .one point for his side. After peering behind the couch, I adjusted his score to minus 27. Together we cleaned up and put the dirt where it belonged. Through the retraining of my son, the Lord reminded me of the many times I dump the dirt of my life behind the couch instead of dealing with it properly. Plalm 68:19 reassures that God daily bears our burdens. He is waiting for us to follow his directions in the Bible and bring sin to Him.
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