The Box

It amuses me that my children are attracted to boxes.

Some kids might want to create with them, and my children have done that on occasion, creating 'airplanes' or 'go carts' or 'forts'.

Mostly, though, they just like to sit in them.

With a blanket.

Or a sibling.

Or both.

Not too different from me.

I like to stay in my box. Where it's quiet, comfortable, and I get to choose what and who is there with me.

It annoys me when people call my box my 'comfort zone' and tell me to get out of it.

Yes- I realize that I'm good at encouraging YOU to step out of your box, but I can advise you from inside of mine.

Sometimes I change my box around a little so it looks different enough to keep me from being bored.

I like my box.

BUT as I lean back on the cardboard and hear the muffles of the outside world, I reflect on the best times in my life, and realize that many of them did not occur in my box. My greatest accomplishments, victories and contributions happened in the outer limits.

They materialized in the great unknown, where I had to walk in faith.

Where I had to believe that if I was called to do something, I would be equipped for the job at just the right time. I had to believe that even if I made a mistake, I was where I was supposed to be, and the Master had promised to work through it.

So I think maybe I'll fold up the box for a while.

I'm not ready to burn it, or dip in in water and watch it deteriorate, but I can put it aside.

Maybe sometime I'll open it up and hide out from those unavoidable difficulties that will begin to creep towards me.

But I don't think I'll stay there.

I'd rather use it to write a list on. A list written in Sharpie Marker on cardboard-

of all the things I've done because I got out of my box.