Don't Look Away

I was in the bathroom the other morning - it really doesn't matter which morning - going through some semi-morning ritual that gets me ready for said day when I saw it. I was shaving, brushing my teeth, smiling in the mirror at myself, washing my hands after taking a crap - I don't know but it was one of those things - but I was doing something when I looked down. Maybe I was throwing something into the trash can - that might be more like it - when I saw that behind the trash can (it's one of those small, bathroom-sized ones), on the floor, was a piece of gum. More than likely, a casualty of war, suffered from the likes of one of my daughters - I don't know which, and since I'm not looking to assign guilt, the identity of the culprit matters not - just spewed out, probably hoping that it would land square in the can.

But it didn't. It might've hit the rim at just the wrong angle so as to end up bumping off, hit the wall, and end up on the floor, safely nestled behind the trash can. It ended up on the floor. It didn't make it into the trash can. And I saw it sitting there on the floor.

And then I went back to doing something, shaving, brushing my teeth, smiling. And I forgot about the gum. And then I looked back on the floor today, and and it was gone. As in disappeared, vanished, or beamed on up to the mother ship. Gone.

And it struck me. Don't look away. I could've stopped my morning routine, bent over, and picked it up. But I didn't. And life is like that.

The moral struck me again. Life is like that, isn't. We see something out of place, broken, hurt, and it's far easier to just look away, go about what we were doing, and then forget. Forget so we can feel good, get stuff done, or just not feel guilty.

Don't look away. Don't be afraid to pick up the gum, or whatever else it is that God has allowed to catch your attention. Don't look away. You might miss an opportunity to serve, to pick up, clean up, or mop up. You might miss an opportunity to serve. Like I did.