Here's what I posted on facebook last week:

 

Caleb Franklin made his bed so nicely the other day that I bought a bag of Andes mints and put two on his pillow. The next day, he'd made it again, so I put two more mints out. Lo and behold, he made it again today! I think I'll pick up another bag of mints, I want to keep this going!

 

And (as Paul Harvey would say) here is the rest of the story:

 

Every morning when I was placing mints on Caleb's nicely made bed, I was also checking next door at Laurel's room to see if hers was made as well. She has a cute turquoise-and-brown comforter and an assortment of decorative pillows, and her bed looks really nice when she fixes it. But she hadn't. Not that day, or the next, or the next.

 

So there I was, mints in hand, wanting to get her in on the game, but I couldn't. I couldn't reward her for an act of obedience (fixing beds is a rule at our house) if she hadn't done it. Besides, if I tossed them on her unmade bed, she might not even find them and they'd get lost in the covers. I was having so much fun surprising Caleb, and I longed to give Laurel a sweet treat as well.

Which reminds me of a verse. "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to them that ask Him! Matt 7:11.

So maybe each morning, God my heavenly father would love to leave a couple of mints on my pillow--a verse that assures me of His love, or a sweet thought that could give me perspective. However, if I haven't made my bed--if I haven't taken the time to sit down, open my Bible, and quiet my soul to listen--how can He do it?

Laurel saw my facebook post and then, sure enough, the next morning her bed was nicely fixed. I lovingly and gladly placed two mints on her pillow.

But how many mints did she miss? How many have I?