I recently cleaned out a small dresser drawer (don’t let the word small fool you; I am adept at packing many things into a very minute area).  Inside, I found a tiny card which had obviously made a large impression on me (evident by the fact that, so carefully was it packed in the drawer, I had ceased to know of its whereabouts).

The card’s background was a hummingbird among flowers.  My name was at the top in very feminine script:  “Marilyn—From the Hebrew root, Mary”.  Under that was the word, “Bitter”, also in lovely script (thanks a lot, Mary).

Then, as on all name cards, the writers had a list of some very generous qualities (which I will keep to myself, lest you think me conceited), as if to make up for the very odorous “bitter” (somehow, listing the phrase “always hospitable” doesn’t help matters—you and I both know that’s not true).

Fortunately, I am not bound by the meaning of my name.  I am, however, responsible to clean out any bitterness, anger, or anything else that is stuffed into my life, which may be covered with a slick coat of pride and lurking just out of sight.

“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice;  And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”  Ephesians 4:31,32

I don’t think I even want to start on the big drawers.