Sara Layman’s “Alleluia” posts were part of the inspiration for my new blog.
“Alleluia Day 106: Once, for a few weeks, my eldest daughter went to sleep-away camp. When I picked her up we went to the craft cabin to pick up her artwork. She couldn’t find her work. I found what looked like her initials on the back of one plaster of paris Jesus but she said it wasn’t hers. “No, Mom! When I painted my Jesus’ eyes, the paint ran down his cheeks.” The craft counselors spoke up, “Oh no, don’t worry about that. We spent all day touching up the paintings and fixing them!” I couldn’t believe my ears. Seriously, I did not want someone else’s painted Jesus in my house (at all!) the only value that piece had was that my child worked on it, was proud of it, and wanted me to see it and have it. They removed the value (for me). My child didn’t want the edited piece either. Why is it that I want to edit my efforts to try to make them appear perfect to others? Did Jesus reject those who washed his feet with water because it wasn’t expensive perfume? Of course I’d like my work and art and efforts to be perfect but if they aren’t – after all I’m not perfect – isn’t it better to have the honest, heartfelt efforts rather than the manipulated and contrived results? Will I, in response, accept all gifts without strings or criticisms? Alleluia!”
I love this post of Sara’s, which she gave me permission to use. How rich to think of two kinds of worth for any creation, the inherent worth and the worth derived from the heart of the creator, and the second has no real relationship to the first. If it is a genuine expression of the individual’s heart, and I see it as such, then it cannot be poorly done, then it is more precious to me than all other creations, no matter how grand and glorious they are. Whatever we offer to God hangs now on his refrigerator door.
Janathan Grace Reflections 
That reminds me of a story that your Dad told during a chapel at CIU (CBC then)…of coming back from a trip and you wanting to do something so wonderful for him to welcome him back. You had been playing in the mud so the drink that you brought him had mud all over it and on your hands but your smile was the brightest ever and your eyes full of pride. He loved it! I probably got the story all wrong, but that is how I remember it and how I hope Jesus looks at my muddy offerings.
Beautifully written…thank you!