In the book, Messy Bessy is a brown-haired, pigtailed cutie--until you look closer.  She is leaning over her plate at the table, both arms splayed out, cramming food in her mouth two-fistedly.  Her cheeks are smeared and the table is strewn with food. 
 
             It's one thing for a one year old to end up with half his meal on his cheeks.  I have a cute picture of Lucas after his first plate of spaghetti.  He is red from fingertips to shoulders, and ear to ear.  The only reason it wasn't worse is that I had the sense to tie, not a bib, but one of my kitchen aprons around his neck.  But by the time he was Bessy's age, he could eat neatly, if still voraciously.

              It is an absolute shame that we need to mention grown up Messy Bessys in the church, but they are there.  Have you ever looked at a theater floor after a movie, or the grandstand after a ball game?  Spilled drinks, scattered popcorn, empty boxes, sunflower seed hulls, and a few things I hate to even ask about lie there for the cleaning crew to take care of.  Unfortunately, some church meetinghouses look nearly as bad.  All sorts of papers litter the pews from lesson sheets to bulletins to candy wrappers, cough drop wrappers, cookie and cracker crumbs, and spilled Cheerios.  The bathrooms aren't much better, with soiled paper towels thrown everywhere but the trash can, toilets unflushed, and water dripping off the counters. 

              No one should have to clean up my mess but me.  A mature adult knows that.  What kind of impression are we leaving on visitors?  And just what do we think we are teaching our children?  Where is the spirit of "Lord, Make Me a Servant" that we sing so sincerely?  No, we expect some other servant somewhere to come in and pick up after us the way our Mama used to.  Do we still need her to tag along?

               And what does grown up Messy Bessy do?  She still has little concern for how the church looks to outsiders.  She will trash it with her complaints about how it is run, with the slander she spreads about her brothers and sisters, and with her ridicule of the preacher and his work.  She will spread its dirty laundry for all to see, even that which has been cleaned "white as snow" by the Lord through repentance.  Then when none of her friends are interested in coming to church with her, she is ready to accuse them of a lack of spirituality. 

            All of the things we have talked about in this series may start with a simple childhood fault, but every one of them has led to something far more sinister spiritually.  If I cannot keep my space neat literally, what will happen to my heart?  If the first comes from a don't-care attitude and a lack of personal responsibility, so will the second—a mess of a life that breaks hearts and ruins souls.
             
              Clean up your act, Bessy.  Grow up and be accountable.
 
Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. (Col 4:5-6)
and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders…(1Thess 4:11-12).
 
Dene Ward
 

My grandniece has Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type 1.  SMA1 is a disease that causes progressive loss of motor neurons, leading to muscle weakness and atrophy.  Type 1 usually shows in babies 6 months and under.  The infants will have difficulty moving, eating, breathing, and swallowing.  They will be unable to lift their heads on their own and unable to sit up on their own.  Most victims of this disease do not survive past age 2 due to respiratory failure.  Abigail has already survived the odds, having turned four this year, but her life is not an easy one.
 
             Abigail must often be rushed to the hospital.  Even a simple cold could be the end.  She recently gave us a fright as she was once again loaded into an ambulance and carted off first to an ER and then a PICU.  Abigail takes it all in stride, and today she is going to teach us a lesson we all need to hear. 

              My niece, Abigail's mother, recently posted the following on Facebook:

             "Abigail's full name is Abigail Andreia (on-DRAY-uh) Saltz.
          [Her father] was very partial to "Abigail," and I...was not. He always wanted purely Biblical names for our children and I told him we could use Abigail IF he could think of a middle name that had three syllables, accent on the second syllable. He stretched his Biblical names rule by choosing a Greek word for her middle name meaning "brave," because it seemed a fitting descriptor for the queen we were naming her after and an admirable quality to live up to.
              Wow. The things you don't know.
            I have told Abigail what her middle name means so many times now that she thinks her *actual name* is Abigail Andreia Brave Saltz. When she has to do something scary she says, 'Gimme a minute. I' takin' away da Andreia and da Saltz so all I have is da Brave. Brave means being still even when you're scared.'
             Today the IV techs marveled at how still she was while putting in her IV.
           And this is what people mean when they say their children teach them far more than they teach their children."

              Abigail has always been the happiest child I have ever known.  I always suspected she was brave—children who have physical difficulties often are because of the things they experience from early on.  Now I know exactly how she does it.  She "takes away" the names that might be in the way so she can make use of the name that counts--Brave.
 
             Can I ask you this morning, what names do you need to take away?  The only name that should count for you is Christian—a child of God, a disciple of Christ.  That name will give you strength when temptations arise.  It will give you peace and contentment when you don't understand.  It will give you courage and steadfastness when trials beset your soul. 

            And why is that?  Because through that name we have life (John 20:31), we have hope (Matt 12:21), we have justification (1 Cor 6:11), we have remission of sins (Acts 10:43) and salvation (Acts 4:12).  We also have absolutely no excuse for failure because the one who wore that name left the example for us to follow, and said it was possible to do so.

              Four year old Abigail knows the power of a name.  Remember the name you wear.  Take away all the others and use that one to be faithful to the end.
 
Let them praise your great and awesome name! Holy is he! (Ps 99:3).

Dene Ward
 

Sulky Sue is a cute little blond, whose angelic expression can turn ugly in an instant.  Whenever she doesn't get her way, she screams, pouts, holds her breath, or otherwise makes the entire family miserable.  Mom and Dad have given in to her tantrums so often that she has come to expect everything to go as she wishes.  They are now just plain scared of her.

              So what happens when Sue grows up?  She still expects to get everything she wants, and whoever is in the way will be sorry if she does not.  Complaining has become her way of life.  She is not happy unless there is something to gripe about.  And gripe she will, even to the point of public scenes.  Preachers, teachers, elders and deacons instantly tense up when they see her approaching.  Is Sue happy today, or did I do something else to upset her?

              Grown-up Sue has never outgrown the egocentrism of a child.  She sits back and watches, gathering more and more "righteous" anger each day that passes because, you see, everyone is out to get her.  Even family and friends are guilty of treating her unfairly, and with "malice aforethought."  Nothing is ever accidental, and everyone always has her in mind when they say or do anything.  

              I once sat and talked with an older woman for about thirty minutes.  In that short amount of time, she said, "_______ didn't like me and wanted to cause me trouble," three different times about three different people.  I so badly wanted to ask, "And what did those three have in common?  Having to deal with YOU."  But I did not.  Maybe I was scared of her, too.

              Sue has let bitterness soak into her soul.  She is never happy, at least not for long.  She is looking for trouble everywhere.  She takes everything personally, makes mountains out of molehills, and blames God for giving her a miserable life.  For some reason, it never crosses her mind that she has pouted and moaned herself into becoming a crabby, peevish, irritable old woman (or man), and she cannot understand why people stay away from her.  Tell her to count her blessings and you will be counting the days, months, or years until she speaks to you again.  But it will probably be a great relief!
 
              Life never goes the way we plan.  Get your child used to the fact that he will have to patiently put up with drivers he thinks are idiots, bosses he can hardly stand, teachers he thinks are unfair, and neighbors who are nuisances.  Tell him to "Get over it!"  It happens to everyone and he is not so special that it will not happen to him too. 

             God's people have hope even in the midst of sorrow.  Sulky Sue is too wrapped up in herself to see beyond this world to the glory of the next.
 
For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.  2 Cor 4:17,18
 
Dene Ward

I could hardly believe it when Silas reached kindergarten age.  How in the world had that happened so quickly?  When he found out he had to go back the second week, he said, “You mean I have to go again?!”
 
             “Yes,” his mother told him, “there is a lot to learn.”

              “But I already learned,” he said, sure that now he would get to stay home with her and his little brother.  Of course, he found out otherwise quickly.

              I know that no one would say it out loud, but sometimes I get the feeling some of my brothers and sisters have the same attitude.  “I already learned!” which is supposed to justify their never studying for a Bible class, never attending an extra Bible study, never darkening the meetinghouse doors for anything but the Lord’s Supper, as if it were a magic potion that would save them that week regardless of anything else they did.  What they have “learned” are usually the pet scriptures, the catchphrases, the simplistic theories that try to explain away the profound depth of the Scriptures—all those things that smack so much of a denominational mindset.

              I have amazing women in my Bible classes, and let me tell you, most of them are neither young nor new Christians.  These are women of a certain age, as we often say, who have sat on pews for longer than many others have been alive, yet they see the value in learning still more. 

              And that does not necessarily mean learning something new.  Sometimes the learning has more to do with a deeper comprehension, uncovering another level of wisdom, or an additional way of applying a fact to one’s life, leading to a changed behavior or attitude.  When I see someone in their later years actually change their lives because of a discovery made in Bible class, I am reminded yet again of the power of the Word.  The most amazing thing about this living and active Word, is that if you are not blinded by self-satisfaction, every time you study it you can see something new.  It’s like peeling an onion—you keep finding another layer underneath.

              You may have “already learned” a great many things, but if that is your attitude, you will never grow beyond the boundaries you have placed upon yourself with that notion.  Like a kindergartner who has learned his letters and numbers, you will be stuck in the basics, the “first principles,” and never come to a fuller comprehension of the magnitude of God’s wisdom and His plan for you.  If you are still deciding how long to keep a preacher based upon how much you “enjoy” his preaching and how many times he visited you in the hospital, if you are mouthing things like “I never heard of such a thing” or “I am (or am not) comfortable with that,” with not a scripture reference in sight, you still have a long way to go. 

              God wants meat-eaters at His banquet.  That means you need to chew a little harder and longer.  Yes, it takes time away from recess to sit in class and learn some more.  Yes, you have to process some new information which may not be as comfortable as you are used to.  Your brain may even ache a little, but that is how you learn, by stretching those mental muscles instead of vegetating on the pew.

              You may think you have “already learned,” but I bet you even my kindergartner grandson figured out very shortly that there was a whole lot more he needed to know.  He’s a pretty smart kid.  How about you?
 
Whom will he teach knowledge? and whom will he make to understand the message? them that are weaned from the milk…Isa 28:9.
Wherefore leaving the doctrine of the first principles of Christ, let us press on unto perfection…Heb 6:1.
 
Dene Ward

In the book, Me-First Millie looks a whole lot like That's-Mine-Thelma (part 2), and indeed, they have the same basic problem:  selfishness.  She is also a bit like Look-at-Me-Louie (part 1).  But Millie's problem tends to show itself in slightly different ways.

              Grown-up Millie not only wants attention, she wants the most attention.  She must be first on the list.  No one's issues are as important as hers. 

              She will insinuate herself and her woes into every conversation.  If you have never discussed someone who desperately needed help for a dire problem only to have Millie interrupt you to tell you that she needed it too, you have been blessed.  If you have had a disease, she has had it worse.  If you had a major surgery, she not only had it, but also had all the complications known to man.  Whatever happened to you, it happened to her worse or better, depending upon the discussion.

              This selfishness shows in other more mundane ways too.  Millie thinks that her schedule is the only schedule that matters.  She is late to everything, every time, everywhere.  Then she cannot understand why people who have had to sit and wait on her for upwards of a half hour become aggravated about it.  She has stolen their time, but for some reason she thinks that is her prerogative.

              Millie will sit at home and wait to be served.  Even if she is perfectly healthy, there is some reason she must be checked on—again and again and again.  Millie not only believes that she deserves everyone's service, she will even dare to tell you exactly how she wants it ministered if it is to please her.  We once had a family move into the area where we lived at the time, who called the church building in order to inform the local brethren when they would arrive, how many people they needed to help them unload, and exactly when they wanted it done.  Oh yes, and someone might also bring some lunch for everyone that day too!  It is one thing to ask if help might possibly be available; it's quite another to demand it

            Millie is exactly the opposite of Lydia.   When that great lady was converted to the Lord, the first thing she said to Paul and Silas was, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay" Acts 16:15.  She knew instinctively that being a disciple of the Suffering Servant meant serving others instead of expecting them to serve her. 

             And when we all have that attitude, no one does without.
 
Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.  As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.  1 Pet 4:9-11
 
Dene Ward

Even in the book, That's Mine Thelma is not a cute child.  Her short, curly brown hair could have made her another Shirley Temple, but the scorn on her face as she snatches a book out of another child's hands is just plain ugly.  No one else can play with her toys.  She is the epitome of selfishness that we all try to teach our children not to be.  Some do better than others.  Sometimes That's Mine Thelma grows up with exactly the same name.

              She is unkind, miserly with others, and always worried about "my rights."  She won't give up anything for anyone else, even in the name of saving souls.  (Can we mention pews and parking places here?)  Keith was once told that the articles he placed in the newspaper were a waste of the church's money (it was a pittance), even though we had the results of those articles sitting on the pews!  Unfortunately, the bulk of that congregation, except for those new converts, was made up of Thelmas.

              Thelma even views the church as her property.  When new people come in, she sits in judgment as to whether they deserve to be greeted and shown the gospel.  If they do not match her status in the community, if they have any problems at all in their lives, they are rejected.  Yes, Keith actually had a men's business meeting tell him he was bringing the wrong class of people to church (failing to mention that he was the only one bringing any guests at all).  He, like Jesus, was preaching to the publicans and sinners, while they wanted a few more Pharisees among them.  They believed the church was theirs instead of the Lord's, and they should decide who could come in.  "It's mine!"  they all thought.

              That's Mine Thelma does not believe Eph 4:28:  Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need.  No sir.  Her money is for her and hers alone.  She is quick to quote …if anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat, 3 Thes 3:10, and to spout off about stewardship.  She would much rather err on the side of selfishness than generosity.

              And Thelma's selfishness isn't only about tangible things.  She will not yield her rights or her opinions.  Let me give you a good example this time instead of a bad one.  I once knew a man who would sit near the back so he could quietly get up and leave when the Lord's Supper was served on Sunday evenings for those who could not make it that morning.  He did not believe that was right, but he did not cause an uproar in the church over it that might lead to division.  He simply did not participate.  There may have been other things he did not do as well, but in that instance at least, he was a good example. 

              My own father was also a great example.  When he heard of a need, he quietly filled it as best he could.  He bought pews and hymnals for small churches.  He helped support gospel preachers.  He gave away his own belongings if he knew someone else needed them worse.  He also opened his wallet on many occasions.  Once he was told that a man he had helped had used that help in a bad way.  "That's his problem," he said.  "I did what my God expected me to do."

            I have been blessed to have known some of the kindest, most generous brothers and sisters in this world.  Generous Joyce would be a better name for all of them, and that is how we should be raising our children, and the example we should show them too.
 
The desire of the righteous ends only in good; the expectation of the wicked in wrath.  ​One gives freely, yet grows all the richer; another withholds what he should give, and only suffers want.  ​Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered. Prov 11:23-25
But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.  1 Cor 8:9
Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor.  1 Cor 10:24
 
Dene Ward

If you missed it, see last Monday's introductory post about this series

              Look-at-me-Louie is a debonair little guy in the book.  Blond, well-dressed, riding a skateboard, a satisfied smile on his face, and his hands on his hips.  Louie will always be showing off and demanding attention.  He is sure he is great at everything, and no one can tell him otherwise.

              I am sure that you have seen grown-up Louie.  He talks constantly—about himself and his accomplishments.  Kind of like a neighbor I once had who told us often of all the money he made before he retired.  It was plain what he was proud of—his wealth, and he was happy to tell us again and again how he had gained it. 

               Grown-up Louie now sports a SELF-satisfied smile.  He can be loud at times, demanding attention not just from the one he is talking to, but the whole room.  He believes he is always the best choice for whatever position or honor comes along and can get downright ugly if he does not get it.  Kind of like a man I knew long ago and far away who started a smear campaign against an eldership because he himself wasn't chosen.
 
             Grown-up Louie does not take correction well at all.  "Why, how dare you try to tell me something when I am so much better than you are."  We once tried to help a young man whose name might as well have been Louie.  He already knew everything he needed to know, thank you very much.  "Why, I am used as the good example to everyone else!  No one can teach me anything."  He knew more than people thirty years older with decades more experience.  There was no way we lowly people could possibly help him.

              He was right, actually.  We could not help him--because he did not believe he needed to be helped.  And that is the sad truth about all the Louies you may know.  The elders cannot help them.  Preachers and teachers cannot help them.  No one can help them until they learn to see themselves clearly in the mirror of God's Word.  The only thing they will hear is praise because that is all they think they deserve.  Once you stop that, they become deaf to you.

              Some of the Louies out there will actually grow up and learn to listen, but some not.  I know a few in their 60s who still cannot stand to hear that they have made a mistake.  Suddenly, you become the enemy instead of a friend.  But sometimes something happens to wake them up.  That's wonderful, but think of all the wasted years, the things they might have learned, and the progress they might have made if they had not been a Look-at-me-Louie in the first place.

              Don't waste your life looking for praise and spurning instruction.  You will wind up being so much less than you could have been for the Lord.
 
Give instruction to a wise man, and he will be still wiser; teach a righteous man, and he will increase in learning.  Prov 9:9
A wise son hears his father's instruction, but a scoffer does not listen to rebuke.  Prov 13:1
For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.  Rom 12:3
 
Dene Ward

My little guys live on a cul-de-sac.  And not just on it, but at the very end.  Understand too, apart from one next door neighbor, no one else actually lives on the circle.  The property around the rest of it is empty and meant by the builders to stay that way.  That means they have the whole end of the street to themselves to play in.
 
             And play they do, rounding the circle on scooters and bikes at speeds that ruffle the ends of blonde hair sticking out under their helmets and send their shirts flapping.  It also means they have more room besides their front and back yards for Frisbee flying and ball playing and kite sailing.  When we visit, more often than not, we wind up sitting on the front porch "spectating" while they play, their blue eyes bright and smiles big as they make turn after turn.

              Reminds me of a place my family lived a few years before we moved to Tampa, another cul-de-sac called "Bristol Court."  Only we lived at the top of the street, a hill by Florida standards, and I rode my own bike down that hill over and over.  It may have been hot, but it was still a real breeze I felt in the middle of a Florida summer, cooling the perspiration for at least a few minutes as my bike picked up speed on the downward slope.  The only difference between me and the boys?  We called it a dead end street back then.  If you had said "cul-de-sac", all of our neighbors would have looked at you with a "Huh?" look.

              I suppose someone thought all those yellow signs that labeled a short street a "dead end" were insulting to the residents.  First, they changed them to "No Outlet."  Those signs are still up, but how many people now ever speak of their dead end street as anything but a "cul-de-sac?"

              People are quick to use euphemisms, especially to put a better spin on something particularly ugly.  "Ethnic cleansing" is really genocide.  "Early retirement" often covers a company's downsizing by firing older workers.  An "urban outdoorsman" is someone who is homeless.  (Exactly how is that less heartless than "homeless"?)  "Negative patient outcome" means he died!  "Collateral damage" is also about death—the death of an unintended target.  And yet more death—"pregnancy termination" is abortion.

              All of these things are attempts to make something that is uncomfortable to talk about, much easier to discuss, to deal with, and ultimately, to do.  Satan has been doing this for a long time.  "Let us take our fill of love till morning," the temptress says in Prov 7:18.  What she means is, "Let's go commit adultery."  In a day where love is supposed to excuse every sin, where "God knows my heart" takes the place of following His will and remaining "holy as he is holy," we must be especially cautious.

              A cul-de-sac is a neat place to live and I am glad my grandsons have the same opportunity I had as a child to enjoy that safer street to play in.  But here is something funny:  the literal meaning of the French cul-de-sac, which is supposed to be some higher class word, we Americans think, is actually "the bottom of the bag."  Which is right where we will find ourselves when we try to use more palatable words to cover up our sin before an angry God.

              The bottom of the bag is still a dead end street for anyone who thinks otherwise.
 
Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter! (Isa 5:20)
 
Dene Ward

When my boys were small, I bought them a book with the above title.  It was written by Ruth Shannon Odor and has the format of a Little Golden Book, including the gold spine.  However, it is called a "Happy Day" book, put out by Standard Publishing of Cincinnati.  The illustrations, drawn by Robert Burchett, are colorful, a bit cartoonish, perfect for a child.
 
             The book begins with the usual manners we all try to teach our children, but divides them as to location—home, playground, school, and most interesting to me, church!  By the end you realize that the point of the whole book is that when you try to be like Jesus, you will be courteous and considerate of others.  In short, you will have good manners!

              My boys loved that book.  I occasionally took it to the children's Bible classes I taught and they loved it too.  And now I have introduced it to my grandsons and they love it.  And all of this is in spite of the fact that they occasionally see themselves in the book and hang their little heads in embarrassment.

              I think its appeal might be the characters that are included:
              Me-First Millie
              Sulky Sue
              Look-at-Me Louie
              That's Mine Thelma
              Picky Pete
              Messy Bessy, and a few others.

              All come with pictures to match.  Over the years, my own boys were apt to look at one another and say, "Now don't be a Look-at-Me Louie!" or some other of the characters.

              I thought it might be interesting over the next few weeks, on Mondays as often as I can manage it, to see what kind of people some of these characters might have grown up to be, if they were real.  And oh yes, they are real.  We run into them every day, and sadly, even among our brethren.  We might ourselves still be clinging to childish ways without realizing it.  But this is important for, as the book concludes:

              "Jesus taught us to be  kind, to love others, to treat others as we would  like to be treated…If we try to be like Jesus in all we say and do, then good manners will be as easy as 1-2-3, A-B-C."
 
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. (Phil 2:3-4)
 
Dene Ward
 

Just as I expected he would, Judah has long since conquered the scooter we gave him for his 5th birthday.  In fact, he wore that one out and is now, at six, on the next size up.  You should see that little guy as he rounds the cul-de-sac again and again, pushing off with his left foot, zooming around parked cars and navigating between the neighbor's trash cans on the edge of the road.  His older brother on his bike can barely keep up. 
 
             No one has to remind him to put on his helmet.  That's a good thing, because he has had his share of spills and the last time we were down, he had a doozy.  We saw him hit the road, but he waved us off as he stood up and lifted the scooter off the road, pushing it all the way to the driveway.  The blood was already pouring, so Granddad took him inside while I stayed with his brother.

              After a few minutes I was told that I was needed.  Granddad could do the cleaning, but Grandma was requested for the bandaging.  When I sat on the floor in front of his dangling leg I got my first good look at that knee.  A half dollar sized piece of skin was completely missing, as if someone had taken a grater and scraped it off, a nearly perfect circle.  Bright red and oozing blood, I knew that it needed some sort of antibiotic and I knew it would hurt.

              I looked up at those big blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, his little lips compressed into a straight line, trembling just a bit as he struggled to keep his composure.  "I will use the spray and blow on it to make it hurt less, okay?"

              "Okay," he managed to squeak out.

              A quick spray and Grandma nearly undid herself blowing as hard and long as she could until the walls around us began to spin.  Then a big bandage that barely covered that skinned spot and we were on to the next one, for the whole top of his foot and leg were scraped and bloody halfway to his knee.  Altogether we used five bandages, but that little guy never uttered a peep.

              "You were a very big boy!" I told him. 

              That seemed to ameliorate the still stinging wounds on his foot and leg.  He gave me a small smile and he was off to play again.  Later that evening when Mommy and Daddy came home, he was proud to show them his boo-boos and even prouder when I told them how brave he had been—"just like a grown up!"

              It must have been a week later before the irony struck me.  We told him how "big" and "brave" and "grown up" he had been.  I am not sure why, because many of the grownups I have seen are perfectly happy to whine and fuss and demand attention from everyone about every little thing that comes along.  Have you looked at Facebook lately?

              Yes, some things do need the concern and care of others.  Some things are so difficult to bear that we might very well topple without someone to lean on.  Those things, which are far worse than a skinned knee, demand our love and help and attention.

               But too many times a relatively minor trial is treated as if it were a life-threatening emergency.  Too often a "skinned knee" is used to judge our brethren as uncaring, or to excuse ourselves from serving.  Exactly what is "big, brave, and grown up" about that?

               Let this sweet little boy, who did his best to be "grown up," teach you what it means to be brave and mature.  Let him remind you that small things like skinned knees happen every day in the life of a Christian.  God expects us to doctor the wounds and then get back up and carry on, to dry the tears and act like an adult.  As a general rule, skinned knees won't kill you.
 
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.  For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, (2Cor 4:16-17)
 
Dene Ward