My friend brought her son, Evan, to my house for a visit when he was two years old.
While his mom and I talked, Evan walked to my refrigerator, opened the door, helped himself to a pear, and started munching.
Evan’s mom seemed embarrassed and scolded him for invading my refrigerator, but I laughed.
“He can have a pear if he wants one,” I said. “I buy them for people to eat. They only go to waste if no one opens the door and enjoys them.”
If a two-year-old helps himself to food in my kitchen, I know he feels safe, comfortable, and welcomed in my home.
“Refrigerator privilege” is the trust we feel when we spend a lot of time with someone and know them well. Like a two-year-old who is unafraid to raid the refrigerator, we feel confident to help ourselves. We trust that we are welcomed, and we are free to accept whatever goodies our host has to offer.
My daughter is married and now has a home of her own, but she is always my child. She will always hold a key to my house and refrigerator privilege to help herself to anything in my kitchen. I want every child to feel he or she is invited to share what I provide.
“Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it” (Mark 10:15).
“Refrigerator privilege” in God’s house is the confidence to ask him for anything we need, the trust that God wants to give us all good things, and the freedom to accept the blessings he makes available to us.
No matter how old we become or how mature in our faith, each of us is always God’s child. We will always hold the keys to God’s heart and the privilege to receive all the gifts he has to offer. God wants us to open the door and sample the flavors of the good life he invites us to share.
God has gifts in store for us, just chilling on the shelf, waiting for us to investigate and help ourselves. All the blessings he offers will only go to waste if we never open the door and see what’s inside.
Who has refrigerator privileges in your home? Do you feel you have free access to the blessings God provides?
“Look what I made for you, Mama.”
From the arts and crafts room at the YMCA summer camp, my daughter brought home beaded keychains, pressed flowers, handprint hearts, crayon drawings.
One summer she gave me two little clay pots, each barely big enough to hold a ring or a handful of paperclips on my desk. She had painted them bright green and purple, pink and gold, and fired them in the Y’s art room kiln.
The pots stood slightly lopsided, their sides thick and unevenly shaped by my daughter’s eight-year-old fingers. Despite their lumpy and imperfect appearance, I loved them because she made them.
“We are the clay, and you our potter; And we are the work of your hand” (Isaiah 64:8).
God crafts us carefully, lovingly molding each of us to fulfill his desired purpose. We are turned and shaped by his sure, gentle hands and then fired to give us strength and substance. Some emerge from the kiln hardened, cracked, or broken hearted. Some shatter in the process and are painstakingly glued together again. Every one of us is uniquely designed and brightly colored by our creator.
We may look imperfect, clumsy, or slightly off-kilter; but we are always treasured and perfectly loved because he made us.
Today I pray you remember whose hands formed you to fulfill a special purpose. I pray you always know that you are loved!
Are you feeling imperfect today? Do you know God loves you just as you are?
My hard shoes scraped on the stone stairs. Every morning I climbed the five grueling flights up to my corner tower office where the only window looked out over the parking lot. On the spiraling staircase, each step dipped in the middle, eroded by decades of other wandering soles.
For a year I worked as a proofreader for a government office, in a beautiful old stone building with winding staircases and wide, echoing halls. On my lunch hours I walked alone through dark and mysterious corridors, traveling under the building’s basement through tunnels that looped endlessly back upon themselves. For a year of lunch hours, I wandered those halls and stairways, always circling back to the beginning, always ending up back in the place where I had started.
Over the building’s main entry, a faded mural depicted settlers moving west. A woman in the center of the panel had her arm raised and pointed toward the horizon. The mural reminded me every morning that while the rest of the world explored great adventures, I was stuck quietly walking in circles.
“I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined to me and heard me” (Psalm 40:1).
Everyone experiences periods of waiting. We will all face times when we wander in circles and wonder when we will break out of our pattern to cover new ground.
Throughout that year of waiting, as I was forced to circle back and confront myself every day, I learned many lessons about facing my fears and conquering the frustrations that kept me from moving forward. I began to see the value of traits we develop during times of waiting.
Patience: We can choose to have patience. We can commit to learning everything possible from our current situation. When the time is right and we are ready for new lessons, the road ahead will turn and take us in a different direction to a new and surprising destination.
Perseverance: We can’t stop walking. The only way to move forward is to keep moving, keep traveling. When we hit an occasional dead end, it’s alright to turn back and try a different route, but we have to keep taking one step after another.
Trust: God is working for us behind the scenes. While we wait and trust, God is shifting walls, removing barriers, and directing the traffic that will take us where we need to be. When we’re ready to move on, God will rearrange the signs to point us toward the place he wants us to go.
Hope: As long as we live, we will always have hope. There are always new opportunities to find and new challenges to face. When we keep moving and keep looking forward, our path will be open to new experiences and our eyes will discover new vistas.
After a year of walking through the cold and empty hallways, I did set off on a new path. I moved to a new home, started a new school, changed jobs, made new friends, and met my future husband. When we wait and trust in the path God has planned, we will escape the daily climb to reach more wide and expanding spaces.
How do you face a period of waiting? In what direction is God leading you today?