When I was younger, I fell more into the tomboy category. After I turned eight, all things pink and sparkly disgusted me. I played soccer constantly and refused to wear frilly dresses and my hair was always in a ponytail.

It wasn’t until high school when I realized being girly wasn’t a crime and I could wear makeup without signing my fuchsia-hating soul away. In college I learned to walk in heels and how to curl my hair, but it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I broke down and bought glitter.

I wanted to take a few pictures of the glitter for promoting sales and various things around the new website. It seemed festive and fun. So I pulled out my white backdrop, poured out a good bit of glitter, and arranged it for pictures. I snapped some photos and they looked decent enough, so I cleaned up the workspace and started to think about my next task. I realized a few minutes later that glitter is not so easy to dispose of.  Somehow the pesky sparkles appeared in my hair, on my laptop, and even on the unsuspecting dog. I am still noticing glitter in the cracks of the kitchen table when we eat dinner, and Kevin complained about finding some on his clothes just last week. The stuff spread like wildfire.

After vowing never to play with glitter again, I reflected on how the small ornaments so quickly and intricately weaved themselves into our lives. And isn’t the gospel meant to be spread the same way?  We should be so affected by the gospel that we can’t escape it. We see the gospel everywhere because the gospel is everywhere. It has weaved itself so deeply into every part of our lives; we can’t distance one section of our lives from his saving grace and mercy. It has profoundly affected us.

And how much we reflect the gospel should coincide with how much we are affected by it.

I was dead in my sins, and now I rejoice because I am alive in Christ. The gospel has greatly affected me. It has affected me so deeply that I see the gospel metaphor in glitter (weird as it may be). Which means I should reflect the gospel with everything I am, with everything I have. But I am an imperfect creature living an imperfect life, and I am especially grateful for His grace in my failures. For his mercy in my messiness. And for his sovereignty despite my selfishness.