I was reminded recently of an activity that when I was able to do this – brought me much delight.
Someone talked about going “home” back to our parents of origin’s actual home and how when we got there things changed. It was the one place on earth where you were free to look into the cupboards and check out what was new without getting reprimanded or being accused of being “snoopy” or “rude”. I would never think of going into other people’s cupboards or snooping around their homes.
Home was the safe place – you just knew that what Mom and Dad had was yours. If I needed a tool for a project – I just asked Dad if I could borrow the saw for a couple days and walked right into the workshop and got it. If I needed some sewing or craft supplies – I would ask mom if she had any bright yellow buttons and walk right into her sewing room and look around to find what she had. What my mom and dad had – they shared with me. I now love to share what I have my boys as well.
Then there was my favorite place and both my sister and I loved it – we would always go to the food cupboard or pantry where mom kept the “good stuff”. That was where we tried the new snack bars from Costco or found the stash of werther’s butterscotch candies or chocolate bars. Mom was so awesome at always having some good stuff on hand in that cupboard and she rarely let us down.
Now that Dad is gone and Mom is in a home with Alzheimer’s – we now fill moms’ little fridge with “good stuff” - I often wonder if she gets as delighted as us when she goes into the fridge to find the treasures waiting in there?
I am challenged when I pray to stop and think about who I am praying to…..
Am I praying and reciting the same words over and over or am I excited to pray brand new everyday with fresh joy and excitement. Do I pray with the same excitement as going into my parents’ house?
I shut my eyes and tried to think of walking into Gods house the same as walking into mom and dads – and I got a picture in my mind.
I picture myself walking right into a huge stock filled pantry of my Daddy’s house. I am not an orphan who just hopes my prayers go randomly somewhere and hopefully get answered – I am a child of God. The God of this universe who has storehouses I cannot even imagine and He wants to share with me. So now as I pray I picture myself pulling the item off the pantry shelf and placing them into my arms – because whatever my Daddy has – He is more than willing to share with me and man does He have some “good stuff”.
I do not intend to demean God by saying He will do everything I ask Him to do - on the contrary just like my earthly mom and dad whenever it was not beneficial for me or wise for me, they said "no" and so does my heavenly Daddy: my part is to respect His decisions and trust He is wiser than me.