The Mom Pile.

      There is in every house a place for all the mending, broken toys, and papers that need shuffled.  In my house it is the Mom Pile next to the rocker in my bedroom.  There is in my pile a stuffed, three foot long, red snake that has split its seam.  Despite my daughter's constant entreaties to please repair it, I just can't.  I look at the stupid snake and see all the times it has hit her sister, it has knocked over lamps, and been fought over in great tug of wars.  It seems to bring out in my daughter qualities that are less than appealing.  I can't really throw it away because of her love of the thing, and I can't force myself fix this thing that  seems to be bad for her.  Other toys and shirts and papers come and go.  The snake sits.
     I then think about the God Pile.  There must be one in Heaven next to the throne in the Great Hall.  In that pile are my broken thoughts, dumb ideas, and hastily made prayers. I often think, "When will God do this thing I want Him to do!!  I wish I would hear something!!"  But what if what I wanted would just make me less than appealing as well.  What if He is really REALLY tired of hearing me ask all the wrong questions and overlook all the great answers He HAS given? 
     So, I force myself to look at the pile of my prayers, thoughts, and ideas and ask Him to weed them out.  Throw away what is useless and heal my grief at their loss.  Maybe, in future, I'll be less likely to hurt others with my tongue, knock over other people's dreams, and fight less over dumb ideas.