"Those little gold stars"

(Composed after House of Prayer,
October 27, 2009).

Head bowed, tears gleaming in my eyes
Shed for the pain of another, I was reminded:
Life is not measured in dollars and cents,
In titles, degrees, and lengthy acronyms,
Or little gold stars on the board;
Yet some days I struggle and strive,
Polishing those little gold stars,
Trying to make them shine brighter,
Reapplying the peeling adhesive,
Keeping them in a straight line.

I don't feel so bad with their glint in my eye,
Still over the years these mere stickers
Seem to simply fade and fall away,
Like the pale ribbon in the back of my closet:
A first place blue ribbon in archery,
Shiny and new the summer after fourth grade.
Actually, come to think of it,
I might have thrown that ribbon away.
Oh well. Nobody really cares about it now.
Old trophies aren't worth much in the end.

Praise the Lord He looks at the heart,
Not our paycheck, job title, or resume,
Not our model of car or IQ,
Nor our number of facebook friends!
Praise the Lord for He is good,
And His mercies are new every morning!
Praise the Lord for His lavish love,
And His gracious provision for our needs!
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness,
And His tender mercies unto me!