A repost from 2010–just because I love this story so much. 🙂
Tonight, when I tucked Cade into bed, I could tell something was bothering him.

It was his pumpkin. The one he made today, in first grade.

“I tried to listen to the instructions, but I just didn’t understand. It took me longer than anybody else!” he said, tears trickling onto his pillow.

I asked if he had gone to the teacher for help, and he said, “I did, but she just said, ‘Jeez Weez, Cade!”

I was thankful that Cade couldn’t decipher my expression in the night-light lit room, as I tried to turn my chuckle into a cough.

Once the laughter was cleared from my voice, I told my precious boy that I was sure his pumpkin was fine. That I would love it no matter what!

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t fine. Mrs. Reddick’s was perfect. She even cut out those little teeth for hers. She did everything right. And I did everything wrong. Mine was so… fat. And then all the other kids glared at it and I felt embarrassed.”

I know just how Cade felt today. In recent months, I have felt as though my parenting, my dieting, my following through, and my organization have all resembled Cade’s fat pumpkin. Even though I’m really, really trying, I feel like it’s taking me longer than anybody else. I can almost hear everyone muttering ‘Jeez Weez’ under their breath while I put the finishing touches on my disastrous series of mistakes.

But you know what? I think fat pumpkins are good for my faith. They keep me humble. They remind me that HE is the vine. That apart from him, I can do nothing.

You would think that the light of Jesus would shine brighter out of the pumpkins with the perfect teeth. But I think He shines brighter out of the fat ones. 

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