It was a wonderful Thanksgiving with the four little grands here.  They are an endless source of entertainment.  The antics of the youngest boy are legendary in the family.  Taking a trip to the Parish Park to run off some excess energy---their mother had the brilliant idea they should walk down to the lake from the playground.  The lake water is being sold for fracking and the level is very low exposing long stretches of muddy lake bottom.  What boy has EVER seen mud they could resist?  NOT these three AND the youngest is always the bravest.  He might have gone a little TOO far as he edged closer and closer to the water.  The next thing we knew he was up to his ankles in black mud. Quick sand might be deadlier, but lake bottom mud sucks you in and seals the exit door.  Uncle Gabe to the rescue, which seems quite ironic since this one reminds me a great deal of his beloved Uncle Gabe.  "I'm TUCK!", cries the little one.  Uncle Gabe is doing everything he can to NOT wade off into the mud (Can't say I blame him).  Obviously the rescue squad was having a difficult time NOT laughing at the TUCK four year old, but he had no one to blame but himself.

This is NO ordinary mud--but black Louisiana gumbo mud guaranteed to turn to black concrete in short order.  We made a quick dash to the bicycle wash rack and turn the cold hose on the poor little fellow.  The price he had to pay for going a bit too far.  With the first layer off, we walk back to the playground to debate who he is to ride home with.  POOR BABY---no one wants black gumbo mud in their car--so he suffers the rejection of his own family.

You do see where I am going?  We adults wade off into our own mud and mire and become tuck in the mess.  The allure and attraction of the forbidden is sometimes more than we can bear to avoid.  Bad habits, self pity, old grudges, consumerism, sloth, envy--you name it---we sometimes become tuck in unhealthy and sinful mud pits.  Once we have waded into the muck, we often find we cannot pull ourselves from the concrete hold of the pit.  We cry out for help, but who wants to risk the danger of getting mud all over them to drag us out of the hole we have fallen in?  AND even if we finally manage to free ourselves, our mud coverings often repeal the clean ones around us.  There is only one way to be washed clean again---only one who will offer to cleanse us---Jesus is the answer.  Always Jesus is the answer.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity And cleanse me from my sin.
Psalms 51:2


  1. Oh, what a mess your little guy got himself into! And don't we all from time to time?
    Yes, Jesus is the only one who can clean us up and make us presentable once again.
    Blessings, Lulu!


Your comments keep my writing and often cause me to think. A written form of a hug or a pat on the back and an occasional slap into reality---I treasure them all!