The Truth Will Set You Free…

The more I grow accustomed to living with the truth of my borrowed treasure, the more I am realizing just how handy that fact can be.  For instance, just yesterday, I practiced saying it aloud- she’s not mine- and I discovered that the truth was surprisingly freeing…

I was just hopping into the shower when Joshua pounded on the dripping door and announced, “Mo-om, Maggie needs help.”

“What’s wrong?” I hollered through the steamy glass.

“Her diaper’s falling off.”

“Well, can you help her put it back on?”

“No, it’s too soggy, and it’s  hanging on her leg, not her bottom,” replied the big brother of the house.

“Okay,” I said, “Just help Mags pull the diaper off and I’ll be right out. I’ll help her put on a new one when I dry off.”

Joshua shrugged his shoulders, mumbled an agreeable “okay,” and exited the room. I quickly rinsed the lather from my hair and turned off the water.

As I wrapped myself in a towel, I heard voices in the hallway.  I edged toward my closed bedroom door and listened to the noise on the other side. The dialogue didn’t sound like merely solo toddler chatter. It rang with the a harmony of a male voice as well. Befuddled by the identity of the baritone conversationalist, I moved the towel from my body to my head and slapped on a rumpled sweat suit. Then I rushed down  the hallway to investigate the happenings at my front door.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, I heard Maggie proclaim, “Oh, a present! I guess it’s my birthday!” 
To which the male voice responded: “Well, you certainly are dressed for the occasion.” 

Trying to remember what Maggie had been wearing at the day’s start, I rounded the corner just in time to see our friendly mail carrier plop a large brown shipping box in the entryway. And Maggie, clad only in her birthday suit, climbed atop the rectangular delivery and did a happy dance.

Stifling a giggle, I swiftly plucked a soggy diaper from the floor (I guess big brother’s helpful measure involved shedding the diaper AND the clothes that were in the way), pulled the bath towel off of my head, wrapped it around my naked darling, and then tucked my bare baby beneath my armpit.

Before I headed out of the room to secure some clothes for my daughter’s shivering frame, I flashed the mail man a brilliant smile and confided, “She’s not even mine. I’m just borrowing her for the day!”


The Overflow:   Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven.-James 1:17