Shiny Things
Have you ever found a rare penny?
Most mornings I go out to the arena we've got set up and pick up glass. While the horses quietly munch on their breakfast, I'll head over and spend a little time picking up each oddment I see.
At first, I was frantically trying to get up as much as I could. It's hard to enjoy riding out there because of all the glass that threatens to lame the horses. Vet bills and Farrier services are expensive! Over time I've learned to enjoy my time out there in the morning and the horses learn patience as they wait to be let out. So, its a "win-win". Honestly, it's a little like popping package wrap.
Sometimes I'll find things other than glass, like old, rusty pieces of metal. Mostly there's just glass. All colors of glass; pottery, china, tile. Slivers that look like they could have come from old candy dishes, hunks that were probably medicine bottles. Once, I even found a 1905 Indian Head penny! That was the coolest. I love pennies.
As I meander through the space, sifting through the dirt, I let my mind wander. Sometimes I think of things I'd like to accomplish that day. Other times I just listen. God likes to show me things while I'm out there. I imagine years ago, when all this glass was put out in this pasture. Surely, whoever did that NEVER dreamed that one day it would tell a story. But one morning, as I went about adding to my bucket, I thought about the pieces I was picking up. I also thought about the ones I wasn't picking up. The ones that I didn't see. Those that were still buried under the sand. The ones that would pop up later after another rain washed the grit off of them and let them out from under the grime that was holding them down, making them invisible.
I can see us in those pieces of broken glass.
Some pieces stand out. They are easy to see. Others are tiny shards, barely seen in the midst of everything else. They didn't just sliver initially, they have been broken over and over. Most of the tiny shards have sharp edges, the affect of having been crushed, run over, pressed against hard or resistant things by great force.
The noticeable are easy to pick up and move along to their next destination. But the tiny shards are harder to pick up. Sometimes it takes several attempts to get hold of them. They just want to stay in their messed up spot. Not that they realize it's a messed up spot, they're just there. They have been pressed into that space. Pushed, forced, driven into that deep, solitary position, surrounded my the dirt. Sometimes I can see that there's a variance in the sand and I'll dig those little shards out. I don't want them left there. They need to be picked up, brushed off and put in with the rest of the glass.
People are like that glass out there in my pasture. Some are shiny and stand out in the crowd. They like to be noticed and want to be seen first. Others are hidden. Maybe they have been broken over and over and pressed so far down they go unnoticed for years. Those are the ones that cannot be over looked. They're the ones that are the most important. We've got to be on the lookout for those. We need to pick them up and make sure they get to where they need to be. Even if we have to go out of our way, make a special effort or step off into the mud. Dirt don't hurt. We've all got some, but the good news is that we can be clean. We can all be brought up from those lonely, muddy, hidden, dark places and brought out into the light where we can shine. Some of those little pieces are the most unique and beautiful. Sometimes they are a rare penny, and boy do I get excited when I find one of those!
Psalm 34: 18 and 19
