If Life Were a Ledger

by - February 11, 2010

I'm a bookkeeper. I love my job - I'm not the decision-maker, the go-to person, nor the one responsible when things go wrong. I'm just the record-keeper. It's the only arena of my life where that's true, and that's so refreshing.

It's also a bit of a fantasy world. You take stock of every single cotton-pickin' thing, recording what comes in and what goes out. Everything gets tagged as an asset or a liability. Two choices - that's it. Black and white....well, red. Simple. The Shirts and the Skins (and you know which team can afford shirts) line up in opposing columns and face each other at the line of scrimmage on the green field of ledger paper (well, computer screen these days...) and promptly cancel each other out. Once this happens, you know your job is done, you turn out the light, and go home to your life. It's a dream job. What's not to love?

In the real world, liabilities can outnumber your assets. Things can get mis-tagged. What was meant for evil, God can use for good. You never know when the job is done, and things are often out of balance. Accounts go unreconciled, the reports and statements can read in red. The columns are smudged and smeared, the amounts get listed in every shade of grey. The only good thing is that at the end of real life, you don't have two zeros to account for all that interest over time.

On really crazy days when I can't tell if I'm coming or going, or whether or not I'm getting credit for my investments and it feels like I'm on loan, I'm glad to know that I can audit my life. You see, at home in my life, I am the decision-maker, the go-to person, the one who's responsible when things go wrong. And that's so refreshing.

So I decide not to leave life out of balance. If I choose to settle my accounts. If I credit forgiveness to those that overdraft me. If I let love cover a multitude of liabilities. Let mercy turn deficits into profit. I'll die a rich woman, with an inheritance of peace and joy in my portfolio. Real life's a dream job. What's not to love?

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