This is an
inspiring little story that is sure to change the outlook of
your day...
Not too long ago I
had "one of those days". I was feeling pressure from a
writing deadline. I had company arriving in a couple days and the
toilet was clogged. I went to the bank, and the trainee teller
processing my deposit had to start over three times. I swung by
the supermarket to pick up a few things and the lines were
serpentine. By the time I got home, I was frazzled and sweaty and
in a hurry to get something on the table for dinner.
Deciding on
Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup, I grabbed a can opener, cranked
open the can, then remembered I had forgotten to buy milk at the
store. Nix the soup idea. Setting the can aside, I went to plan B,
which was leftover baked beans. I grabbed a Tupperware from the
fridge, popped the seal, took a look and groaned.
My husband isn't a
picky eater, but even HE won't eat baked beans that look like
caterpillars. Really frustrated, now, I decided on a menu that
promised to be as foolproof as it is nutrition-free: hot dogs and
potato chips. Retrieving a brand new bag of chips from the
cupboard, I grabbed the cellophane and gave a hearty pull. The bag
didn't open. I tried again.
Nothing happened. I
took a breath, doubled my muscle, and gave the bag a hearty
wrestle. With a loud pop, the cellophane suddenly gave way,
ripping wide from top to bottom. Chips flew sky high. I was left
holding the bag, and it was empty.
It was the final
straw. I let out a blood curdling scream. "I CAN'T TAKE IT
ANYMORE!!!"
My husband heard my
unorthodox cry for help. Within minutes he was standing at the
doorway to the kitchen, where he surveyed the damage:
An opened can of
soup, melting groceries, moldy baked beans, and one quivering wife
standing ankle deep in potato chips. My husband did the most
helpful thing he could think of at the moment. He took a flying
leap, landing flat-footed in the pile of chips. And then he began
to stomp and dance and twirl, grinding those chips into my
linoleum in the process! I stared. I fumed. Pretty soon I was
working to stifle a smile.
Eventually I had to
laugh. And finally I decided to join him. I, too, took a leap onto
the chips. And then I danced.
Now I'll be the
first to admit that my husband's response wasn't the one I was
looking for. But the truth is, it was exactly what I needed. I
didn't need a cleanup crew as much as I needed an attitude
adjustment, and the laughter from that rather funky moment
provided just that.
So now I have a
question for you, and it's simply this: Has God ever stomped on
your chips? I know that, in my life, there have been plenty of
times when I've gotten myself into frustrating situations and I've
cried out for help, all the while hoping God would show up with a
celestial broom and clean up the mess I've made of things.
What often happens
instead is that God dances on my chips, answering my prayer in a
completely different manner than I had expected, but in the manner
that is best for me after all. Sometimes I can see right away that
God's response was the best one after all. Sometimes I have to
wait weeks or months before I begin to understand how and why God
answered a particular prayer the way He did. There are even some
situations that, years later, I'm still trying to understand. I
figure God will fill me in sooner or later, either this side of
Heaven or beyond.
Do I trust Him?
Even when He's answering my prayers in a way that is completely
different from my expectations? Even when He's dancing and
stomping instead of sweeping and mopping? Can I embrace what He's
offering? Can I let His joy adjust my attitude? Am I going to
stand on the sidelines and sulk, or am I willing to learn the
steps of the dance He's dancin' with my needs in mind?
I'll be honest with
you: Sometimes I sulk. Sometimes I dance. I'm working on doing
more of the latter than the former. I guess the older I get the
more I realize that He really does know what He's doing. He loves
me and I can trust Him. Even when the chips are down.
