Just the other day, from out of nowhere, came a happy memory of one of my favorite toys from childhood, my Hippity Hop!  I was born on a farm and aside from my horse, my favorite toys were ones I could ride on.  I have many memories of bouncing around the yard and pasture on that thing, and boy it must have been made of magic rubber because it never sprung a leak, that I can remember. 

When I thought on it a bit, I realized that for the life of me, I cannot remember whatever happened to my favorite toy.  As I pondered this, more memories of toys that brought me joy came to mind.  Some of them came to tragic ends, as some toys do, when we are too hard on them or just don’t take care to protect them.  Others, however, I quite honestly cannot remember what became of them. 

It occurs to me that people are kind of like toys, in the sense that we sometimes, for whatever the reason, lose track of people that we once loved and held dear.  Sometimes I feel like the child, and at other times I have felt like the toy!  Instead of this thought leading me, or you for that matter, into the negative, I want to share an insight with you. 

I have a soft spot in my heart for those little old fellows that own huge pieces of land simply teeming with old things…some rusted beyond repair, while others may yet be restored and reused.  The point is that they simply refused to let go of anything that might one day be saved. They never stops loving and dreaming about bringing the beauty back to those old things.  It doesn’t really matter if the old man ever gets them restored.  I am just encouraged by him always hoping and dreaming. 

I am so glad that God will never get tired of me!  He will never forget that I am there, or nudge me aside with His boot.  God never stops believing in me, no matter how damaged or dinged up I become.  The Masters hands are always mending, rebuilding, and restoring me to how He sees me…His own!!!!!