Each drawer was opened, emptied, reseasoned, and reorganized. Four of my eight kids now had a sense of what clothes they owned and where those clothes should go. What was left was bags of clothes that fit no one in our home. My next chore was to take the short drive down the road to drop them in the clothes bin so someone else could use what we couldn't.
I had spent most of my time that morning in the boys' room. My little one managed to go through her clothes on her own. I gave little thought to that until I stood before the donation bin. You know the kind-the metal ones with the heavy handle that is almost out of reach for those of us who are height challenged-the ones that make you second guess your choices to give away because as soon as you let go there is no turning back. That is where I was. I had not looked at one piece of clothing at my 9yo little girl had chosen to give away. Did I need to?
As I swung the bag clumsily to the entrance of the bin, I noticed a yellow piece of paper. Had she left trash in the bag? How embarrassing. I took a closer look. The yellow paper measuring a mere 3" x 2" showed three words. God Loves You.
My heart swelled. My eyes pooled. My smile grew.
My little girl took advantage of an opportunity to share God. She not only chose to love practically, but she also made sure to tell someone that it was God loving.
God is choosing to take our family on some rough roads. Despite the bumps, I have been blessed to see my kids hold on tightly to God. She is only nine, but she is seeing God and wants others to see him too.
The morning had been rough. Frustrations were high. I like clean rooms, but the process to get there is no fun. My little girl's note to an unknown recipient was a sweet reminder to me. God loves me.
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