Oh Dear, O My

Recently in Sunday School we have been going through a course of study on the spiritual gifts. For someone who has been in church all her life, for a pastor's wife of some years, this is old news in a very real sense.

But the teacher is young in the Faith and the material being used is very contemporary. That being so, I have found there are fresh thoughts being presented (not that the Truth has altered).

How we determine what our gifts are is given from a different slant. Again, contemporary.

There is a questionnaire to be filled out, 137 questions in all. There is a personal assessment and opportunity to ask for others to assess. (a bit scary, this). Then there is the nailing down of personal style. Then there is the determination: are you project oriented or relationship driven?

Are you task structured or unstructured? People structured or people unstructured?

For myself, perhaps others have also found it so, there is no neat box in which I fit, particularly in this last section. I'm very structured in many things, I do not like surprises, I do not ever do well or have success following impulses, that sort of thing.

Then this is narrowed down further by the question: "Do you put everything in files, or everything in piles"? O dear, O my. I've been found out! Definitely a pile putter. Sad that, as I best function when my world is neat and tidy, everything in its place. And yet, the evidence is glaringly unmistakable.

This began about spiritual gifts. Now there is a shift to daily living.

The picture above was sent to me years ago - I have no idea how long ago - by my mom. Most probably it was during the years when I had four teenagers in the house. Anyway the card has been slipped in a book and resurfaced this last week. On the back Momma had written: "Hi! This should cheer you ~ for your desk corner never resembled this."

[Oh Momma dear, can you see my desk this day? Are you allowed to peep over the the edge of Heaven into my room in the Border Land? ]

Perhaps there was a time when I did better than now. Possibly. But at the present season of my life, Mr. Mouse could have his choice of several stacks of books on which to sit, on and near my desk, yea verily, in any room in the house.

Is there a plot line here? A conclusion to be drawn? A pithy ending? Not really. But you must agree it's an mighty cute illustration. (And as mother was an original re-cycler, the card most probably came to her first from a beloved grand daughter/niece known to this day as the sender of delightful cards.)

So Dear Reader, at least enjoy the mouse and anything else you might glean This Day.