The small piece of pink rubber fits into her hand perfectly. Only an inch or two in length, it is easy to overlook this small tool, but it's worth cannot be valued highly enough. To have the ability to write or draw something and then take it back, redo it, hit the, 'rewind,' button; this is truly a gift.
She wished all of life was like this. She remembered back to the many biting words she has uttered; the dozens of times when she ought to have done something, but she failed to act. How different our lives would be if we each held an eraser with which we could take hurtful things back.
Our lives are somewhat like big pads of paper that we have covered in scribbles and misspelled sentences. We don't have the eraser, though. We are stuck with the choices we have made, each one leaving a black mark on the paper. Jesus has the eraser though; He is the eraser. He is the only one who can wipe away every one of those marks, making our paper pure and white.
She saw just a small sketch of this masterpiece as she held her eraser, turned back time, and started fresh.
Over and out,