“Where no oxen are, the manger is clean.  But, much increase comes by the strength of the ox.” (Proverbs 14:4)

I love the book of Proverbs in the Bible.  It’s the drive-by shooting approach to wisdom.  Each little kernel of truth is maybe one or two sentences arranged in one or two verses without much context or explanation.  Maybe it’s the time of day, but sometimes I’m left thinking, “Hold on.  I know this is profound, probably even life-changing or relationship changing or more, but I’m gonna need a minute.”  

This particular proverb stood out to me today as a jewel of wisdom to help me keep my eyes on the main thing.

I’m one of those that derives a certain amount of comfort and security from being in an orderly, relatively clean space – at least as orderly and clean as you can get with a somewhat pack-rat mommy, husband, dog, cat, two toddlers, one on the way, and all the “stuff” that comes with each.  Nevertheless, we do try.  And while our ordering system may not be readily apparent to the naked eye, it IS ours and we like it.  I have found that when my surroundings are in chaos, so is my brain.  An uncluttered home frees up an uncluttered mind and spirit.

Which brings me to my predicament…
Saturday was partially spent cleaning and getting our home to a nice state of relative calm.  Then, not even 12 hours later, I’m faced with a sink full of syrupy dishes, carpet littered with cupcake/french fry bits and floors dotted with mud.  Plus, various nap time pauses and my own 6-months-pregnant lack of energy have left my nesting projects in the boys’ rooms in a more chaotic state than when I started.  My first instinct:  run screaming from the house.

Then, I see Proverbs 14:4 — cleverly posted above the stove.
“Where no oxen are, the manger is clean.  But, much increase comes by the strength of the ox.”

Now, I’m no oxen expert, but I’m guessing that they can produce quite a mess.  And, the only way to avoid it is not to have them in my manger.  Yes, that might help the barn stay spotless, but look at the “increase” I’m missing.  It’s obvious.  The strengths of the oxen FAR outweigh their mess.

When it comes right down to it:  No amount of sticky fingerprints or clothes-strewn rooms or muddy floors could ever diminish the great joy I receive from the family God has given me.  Those giggles and squeals, drum beats and bouncing balls are a priceless increase.  So, we live with a few crumbs, and our coffee table has honey mustard stains.  At least we’re all in the same room; everyone is healthy and growing and (at the moment) smiling; and I can grab them and kiss them any time I want.  I am a wiser woman when I keep my focus on the blessing and my thoughts away from trivial complaints.

Lesson learned — again today.

My grandparents lived on a farm outside Macon, Mississippi that was just a few acres of pasture with a small herd of cattle my Dad nurtured.  As a child, I spent most weekends there enjoying the special attention of my grandfather and indulging in the few tomboy traits I possess.

Saturday adventures with Grandaddy would sometimes include a trek through the pasture behind the house or behind the beagle pens.  As I walked or ran or jumped along, carefree and fascinated by thistle bushes, I would inevitably hear “You’ll cut your foot!”

Now, I’ll leave to your imagination a picture of the pitfalls (or piles) to which my grandfather was referring – the ones littering the grass of a cow pasture.  Needless to say, I was oblivious to the stinky mess that awaited my Buster Browns.  “You’ll cut your foot” was Grandaddy’s code phrase of sorts, a warning the entire family had learned to interpret as “look down, now.”  It was a call to pay attention, because every step isn’t necessarily a solid one.  But, when you’re walking through a cow pasture, what do you expect?

As I think about paying attention and absorbing so much of the world around me with intention, I can hear a warning in my mind – “You’ll cut your eyes!”  The fact is; there are a lot of well-manicured lawns out there, a lot of beautiful, worthy landscapes… and a lot of cow pastures. Not everything – every site, every book, every picture, every news item, every tv show, every personal attitude, every opinion – is worthy of my attention.  

My dictionary widget describes a worthless thing as something without value or use.  Some pursuits are profit-less, of no benefit, even detrimental. Why would I want to muddy my vision and stink up my perspective by spending my attention on what is worthless?  

It’s true that determining what is valuable is somewhat of a subjective thing.  However, I believe that there are some core universal “things” of value:

People.  
Not necessarily their ideas or attitudes or opinions – there’s plenty of stinkiness there – but, people.  The Bible teaches that because God created each of us (knit us together in our mother’s wombs [psalm 139]), each individual is a soul, a unique person of infinite worth to God.  If it matters to Him, then it ought to matter to me.  

Truth.
It doesn’t change.  If it’s true, it’s always true.  If it’s not, it never is.  The Bible teaches that the word of God will stand forever.  To me, that’s the best source of what is true and what is false, and the more relative aspects of what is worthy and what is garbage.

Beyond those universals, I’m left to create my own filtering system of value, a visionometer of what is worthy of attention.  I can wisely use this verse as a good guideline:

Whatever is true
whatever is honorable
whatever is right
whatever is pure
whatever is lovely
whatever is of good repute
if there is any excellence 
and if anything worthy of praise, 
dwell on these things.
(philipians 4:8)

This verse is not to say that I should ignore everything ugly or disturbing around me and only “see” the pretty stuff.  That’s not just naive; it’s ridiculous.  But, even the ugly, hard things can lead us to a place of truth, honor, and purity.  It’s up to me to determine if the potential is there.

I’m still working on that visionometer, but my goal for myself and for EyeJunkie is to commit with Israel’s King David, the poet, “I will set no worthless thing before my eyes.” (psalm 101:3)