To squander is to waste what should be valued, especially time, but also money and opportunities.
Yesterday, while sorting stuff into three piles mentally marked: Keep, Toss or Giveaway, I realized how much time and money I’d squandered over the years. Before long, I just sat down and sobbed feeling a little like the Prodigal must’ve felt when he realized he’d squandered his inheritance and found himself in a pigsty of his own making.
My place doesn’t resemble a pig pen but I’m still guilty of squandering resources. It’s not the first time I’ve looked in a mirror of sorts and seen the prodigal, the elder brother or a denying-Peter staring back at me.
As Lent approaches, my heart longs to leave the pig pens of my own making, to seek God in the nooks and crannies of moments, in nature, in others.
In Bread and Wine, readings for Lent and Easter, Barbara Cawthorne Crafton wrote,” When did the collision between our appetites and the needs of our souls happen?…How did we come to know that we were dying a slow and unacknowledged death? And that the only way back to life was to set all our packages down and begin again, carrying with us only what we really needed? We travail. We are heavy laden. Refresh us, O homeless, jobless, possession-less Savior. You came naked, and naked you go. And so it is for us. So it is for all of us.”
Redeemer of squandered lives, born in a stable, you know a sty when you see one.
Come to this one, I pray.
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