"My Mark"

I love watching my kids create things. They are totally thrilled with a blank sheet of paper, the possibilities of what it will become endless.    Whether it is stamps, crayons, stickers or paint, nothing brings my two little ones as much joy as creating a piece of artwork to show Daddy when he gets home from work. After their projects are deemed satisfactory, they sit on the kitchen counter until the door handle turns and in walks Daddy.  At the sound of his voice, Jake and Lilly sprint to the kitchen, pluck their pictures off the counter and thrust them into his hands, saying “I made that for you, Daddy!”  I know it is the absolute highlight of his day! 

A few weeks ago while driving on a beautiful, clear day Jake spotted a white mark against the crisp blue sky.  “My mark!” he exclaimed.  It reminded me of the chalk marks that cover our driveway, fat and full of texture, and seemingly endless.    I explained to Jake that an airplane made the mark in the sky and even though we couldn’t see the airplane any more the mark showed us where it had been.  As we continued down the road, he repeated to himself, “My mark! My mark!”  

That day I thought about how our lives leave a mark as well.  We try to be so conscious of what kind of legacy we are leaving for our children.  As I stared with my son at that beautiful chalky line in the sky, I realized that the only thing that will last when I’m no longer here is the fruit God produces from my little old seeds.  Those seeds are not intended to sit on a shelf, collecting dust.  They are meant to be planted, in order to produce more seeds, which are to be planted, and so on. 

Today Jake spotted another airplane mark in the sky and this time Lilly got all caught up in the excitement, too.  As two-year-olds love to do, Jake quickly claimed his mark and excitedly shouted out, “My mark!  See my mark!”  He was enthusiastically pointing at the line in the sky as if he had something to do with putting it there!  Then he said, “I made that.  I made that mark.”   

Of course I did not correct him.  I did not point out that clearly an airplane made that mark and he obviously was not listening when I explained this fact to him weeks ago.  I would never dream of telling my son that there is no way he could ever reach the sky, let alone color on it.  So I said what any mother would say when her son claims to have colored the sky.  With my eyes locked on his in my rear view mirror, I said, “Oh, really?”  He nodded his head emphatically and then said, “I made that for Daddy.” 

Sometimes I think God wishes we would just look at His world through the eyes of a child. Everywhere we turn there are marks; some are subtle, some are bold.  Creation is covered in His beauty. His fingerprints are all over our lives.  We get to leave a mark when we leave this world.  How magnificent our mark will be if we would paint the sky with the recipient of our artwork in mind!  We are all holding a brush and our life is the blank canvas.  Some of us paint for ourselves.  Some paint for our children.  But the mark displayed most beautifully is the mark that is made for the Father.  When my time here is up, I want be able to say the same thing about my mark: “I made that for you, Daddy!”