A Basket of Eggs


Not the same basket!

My oatmeal box basket, though seeming so sturdy, tipped over and spilled three very large brown yard eggs as I approached the house. To my horror, each one broke on contact. What to do? My five-year-old mind went right to work figuring a way to hide the problem. It wasn’t easy but with the help of a shovel that was far bigger than I, I managed to bury the broken eggs.

My hope that Mamma would forget to ask how many eggs I’d found was quickly crushed. I stuttered only slightly as I answered that there were no eggs that day. She cupped my chin in a work-worn hand, looked straight into my eyes, and shook her head. I’d been discovered. She knew! Her lecture was against my untruth, not the silly accident caused by my desire to use my handmade basket.

If Mamma knew, then God much more! He knows when I nurture feelings of self-pity rather than looking at the positives. He knows when I tell half-truths to save my face; He knows when I put off doing things I know I should or when I’m less compassionate or too busy to notice another’s fear, disappointment, or distress. He knows when I’m jealous, or irritable, or rude, or too shy to speak boldly in His name to a neighbor or friend or stranger. He knows my thoughts afar, whether resentful or simply not constructive. He knows me!

It’s a fearful thing. It’s a marvelous thing. He knows me! He knows you. Don’t try to hide like Adam and Eve in the garden. Make your confessions to Him. He is ready and eager to forgive!

And Mamma did forgive me for breaking those eggs!

Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Psalm 139:2

Lord, I cannot hide from your knowledge and I find I don’t really want to. It is a comfort to me to realize that you know me and yet you never give up on me!


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