The mat in the guest bathroom sparkles.
Several weeks ago, I discovered gold glittered nail polish on the bathroom tile. Of course, no one claimed to know a single thing about it.
“What? I didn’t do it!”
“IT WASN’T ME!”
Woodlin creatures.
Okay, well, must have been those Woodlin creatures sneaking into the house again.
This week, I washed the mat (don’t judge me) (you don’t wash your bath mats every week either) and noticed tiny gold glittery spots sparkling up at me when I pulled it out of the washing machine. The polish on the tile came off with some nail polish remover but since that will take the color out of the mat, we’ll just have to live with a bit more sparkle in our lives.
I kinda scratched at the gold glitter globs to see if I could get them off but, of course, no. They were stuck there, maybe forever, maybe just until I’ve washed the mat enough. We’ll see.
But those globs sure stuck with me all day.
Obviously, my daughter owns the gold glitter nail polish. Both of us own nail polish but only one of us prefers the glitter version and that’s most definitely not me. It’s entirely possible one of our neighborhood friends accidentally dropped the nail polish on the floor and splattered it on the bath mat. I’m not accusing anyone of deliberately doing a single thing.
But that’s how it happens, doesn’t it? Finding out someone or something stuck. No matter how much you scrape at it and try to remove it, it’s pointless, it is permanently stuck. Accidentially usually.
Sometimes it’s a movie that sticks with you or a conversation that sticks. Parents pray bible stories stick and kids hope their pinkie promises with their besties stick. Teachers diligently work to make sure counting with touch points sticks and the sounds of each letter stick. We invest in new relationships wanting them to stick. And infertiles doing IVF pray their embryo babies have “sticky feet” after they are delicately transferred from Petrie dish to uterus.
We long for the sticking to bring a bit of sparkle to our lives.
November brings twinkly lights and art projects with white snow glitter. We light Christmas trees and wear ugly sweaters that flash. There’s even a reindeer whose shiny nose glows.
But there are plenty of things in our life that don’t shine brightly.
Frustration with standing in long lines. Kids refusing to wear pants even on 42 degree days. Multiple events on the same day at the same time. Everyone everywhere asking for our time and money. Not being able to watch all 582 Hallmark Christmas movies.
These things don’t make the holidays shiny and bright. They make it blurry and dull. Sometimes, so blurry we can’t see through it to the bright light purpose of this whole season anymore.
The struggle is making sure what sticks to us sparkles and what creates a dull, dingy film on the light is easily cleaned away.
Before we hang one light before we roast a turkey or wrap a gift, I think we need to decide what we are going to let stick to us this year.
All that sparkles.
Or all that dulls.
While we still have our Blessed pumpkins on our mantles and before we climb up in the attic to bring down our Christmas boxes, maybe we should pause and simply be intentional.
Give grace to growing lines.
Add empathy for less than enthusiastic retail workers.
Decline invitations that add stress.
Accept invitations that add joy.
Celebrate children creating.
Choose to believe the best out of people and intentions.
Let Starbucks and their red cups live in peace.
Sing along to Happy Holidays instead of grunting in disgust.
Generously give to those in need.
Bless less with material stuff and more with memorial experiences.
Gratefully embrace the season of Redemption and Love and Sacrifice given to us by our Father.
Let’s decide, this year, we want all that sparkles and nothing that dulls.