Yesterday I was at our MOPS meeting and the sweet little MOPPETS made Thankful Turkeys (handprint turkeys). On each of the feathers (fingers) of their turkey they wrote something they were thankful for. This cute little guy was showing his mom his turkey and she stopped to ask him about one of the feathers.
"You're thankful for mud?", the mom asked.
"Yes!", the little guy exclaimed, "mud makes my seed grow!"
The mom turned to me and began to explain that her precious boy loves all things outdoors and when the kids planted seeds a couple weeks ago in MOPPETS, he couldn't stop talking about the "mud" and the seed that would eventually spring forth.
As a former classroom teacher, I loved the little guy's enthusiasm for the project. As a daughter of our Heavenly Father, his thankfulness for mud struck me.
Am I thankful for my mud?
I am thankful for my wonderful husband.
I am thankful for our perfect baby girl.
I am thankful for LOTS of really wonderful things that God has richly blessed my life with but am I thankful for the mud He has given me too?
One of the verses I have clung to in hard times is from Habakkuk (yes, it is a book in your Bible... the Old Testament) which says, "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior."
These words flooded my mind when I heard that little boy talk about his mud.
I am thankful for my mud when things don't go my way.
I am thankful for my mud when the day is long and the night is not restful.
I am thankful for my mud when I feel at odds with myself because of constantly saying yes.
I am thankful for my mud when my girl is having a whiney day and nothing seems to soothe her.
I am thankful for my mud when I am tired and there are still way more things on my To Do List than will actually get accomplished.
I am thankful for my mud when all I see is mud because I know that in His time my seed will sprout and that my joy does not come from my mud but from my Maker. I am also thankful for my mud because I understand that it is in the midst of this mud that God teaches me and refines me. If it weren't for seasons in the mud, would I truly appreciate the beautiful, new sprout that eventually emerges?