a couple of weeks ago, the monster baby decided that it needed some of grandmas leftover rolls. not just needed but NEEDED. I heated them up, but when I tried to eat one, I about broke my jaw. the rolls were all hard as rocks--beyond stale.
yesterday I was driving through rogers, and a church on the corner had changed their marquee. the new one said the bread of life never goes stale.
let me say that again...
the bread of life never goes stale.
I was immediately brought back to that day in the kitchen, where I was near tears (hey, I'm pregnant here) about stale rolls. it made me think-how often is what we bring to God not our best? how often do we let ourselves dry up, and leave Him nothing but stale crumbs. I'll speak for myself and just say right now that it happens way too often.
i dont want God to look into my heart and find nothing appealing there. I want my life to always be fresh and delightful for Him.