Friday, August 6, 2010


Today I was at the store with the kids when a woman and two young boys went past us. "Those are my friends!" Trevor insisted. But I'd never seen them before. A few aisles over, we saw them again and the mother said, "My boys are convinced they know your son." And then she said, "You go to Gold's Gym a lot, right?"

(Take a moment and laugh out loud. I know I almost did.)

Turns out our boys go to the same school, but I could not help being amused that she thought I might frequent the gym. After all, I wish I could say I'm rockin' the evidence of being a gym-going-girl in the form of 36-24-36 measurements, but I am SO not. I've got jiggle in my jello. And (most days) I'm okay with that.

But it made me wonder if I wear the evidence of where I've been. I don't have a tush you could bounce quarters off of, but then again, I haven't been in a gym in a few years. But do I hope there's evidence of sitting at the feet of Jesus? Absolutely.

I hope I wear grace and mercy. I hope there's evidence of love and self-control. And I wouldn't mind rockin' some patience and assurance in Him.

"Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works
and praise your Father in Heaven."
Matthew 5:16

Based on the evidence...where will people assume you've been?

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