Once again, the Lord has ministered to my heart through the mouths of babes.
Me and my big boy were quietly getting all of our ingredients ready to make French toast while daddy and baby brother slept in the next room over. As I gathered the eggs, milk, and butter, my tiny helper began to get restless atop the kitchen counter.
Pointing and grunting at the bag of bread, he used sign language to urgently communicate his hunger. I tried to explain to him that if he could just wait, I was going to take that plain ole bread and make something sugary sweet and so yummy!
But patience was not on his agenda. He begged for a piece of bread. He pleaded with such polite persistence. "Pleeeeeaaaaseeee, mommy!" Finally, I said, “You know what? Sure. Here ya go.”
He took the bread from my hands like it was a trophy. He ate it in ignorant bliss as the bland bites filled his hungry belly. Meanwhile, I was hard at work making the rest of us something delicious.
Our eyes met as I whisked the eggs and cinnamon together. I could see his little wheels begin to turn as he looked at the bread and then at me. The sweet smell of butter and sugar met the foul stench of regret in the air.
“Mommy, toast!” He signed “please” and laid down the half-eaten bread soggied by his clammy little fingers. I watched as revelation washed over him. The bread was fine to put a pin in his hunger pangs, but the toast would’ve been immeasurably more.
Sound familiar?
- How many times have we tried to rush the hand of God or chosen our plan over having patience for His?
- How many times have we walked away from a door because we were tired of waiting for it to open?
- How many times have we compromised our morals for the sake of instant gratification?
- How many times have we settled in a relationship because were scared to believe for God’s best?
- How many times have we panicked and exhausted ourselves trying to cram square pegs into round holes because we weren’t trusting that His timing is perfect?
- How many times have we begged for bread when He was preparing French toast?
I know for me, the times are countless. I don’t have enough fingers or toes to represent the number of times I didn’t think God was moving quick enough. Or the innumerable instances I settled for a flavorless mixture of flour and water over sugar sweet immeasurably more!
And, please, don’t mistake this as any sort of prosperity gospel. God cares deeply about our joy. He cares deeply about abundant living. You’ll never find the word “mediocre” in the Bible. Whatever God’s best looks like for YOU, He wants it for your life.
So may we be patient, obedient, and always blessing the name of the Lord. In the valley and on the mountain. In dry seasons and harvest. Trusting that He's working for our good and His glory. May we be slow to panic and quick to cling to our faith. May we never again have to look back, full of plain bread, and think, “If only I would’ve waited, I could’ve had French toast.”
