Picking up sticks…

Remember that game? That was literally the name of it. The goal was to…well…pick up sticks. But you had to pick up a stick without moving another stick. Sort of like Jenga only with sticks on the ground. What a dumb game. 🙂

Yesterday I saw a little dog on the walking path here in Arizona and he had a stick in his mouth. More like a branch. And while one end was in his mouth, the other end was being dragged on the ground.

Dragged…drug….was dragging…

Anyway, that little dog for some reason decided to pick up this stick and carry it. Why wouldn’t he pick up a stick that he could easily carry? What’s he trying to prove?

What am I trying to prove?

Recently I’ve been asking myself that. Someone asked me what the benefits are of getting older and I said the best benefit is that I just don’t care what people think anymore. And what a gift that is. I never really cared a lot frankly, but now it’s even less so. So what am I trying to prove? The answer…nothing actually.

I truly don’t feel like I have anything to prove anymore.

So then what am I doing with my life and my time?

I’m picking up sticks.

Sometimes the sticks are too big. Sometimes too small. But I believe they are the “crumbs” that God has put before me so I’m picking them up and following them.

Something about a stick though…when you pick it up….you get both ends. It’s not always easy and good. Sometimes it’s hard. Those are the two ends of the stick.