Cleaning up my kitchen, preparing to bake, and it caught my eye. I've known it was there...always packed with miscellaneous notebooks, cards, tape, clips, coupons, things that don't have a place. An extension of my junk drawer really, in a home with few closets, run by a woman with little organizational skills.
While reaching for some flour I stopped and stared at such an odd thing. I smiled, went back to making my banana bread, and then stopped to look once more. As I was spacing off smiling, the Spirit fell on me and I began to weep.
It's only a silly plastic beach bag filled with a bunch of junk...Geez Tiff!
Yea I know, that's what my mind was saying too. My initial smile at first glance was only a response to the amazement I had for having hung onto such a thing for so so long. As well as the questions, "Why?" and "How on earth?" floating about my thoughts. Who knew I'd give this goofy thing a purpose that would last into my mid-forties and beyond.
Little had I let myself realize how treasured it actually was...sturdy yes, but special?
Around the time my second gaze took me over, I started remembering the moment this bag was given to me. It was the summer after 7th grade. My 13 year old under developed, awkward self had been invited on a family vacation with my neighborhood best friend. I mention under developed only because her family had nicknamed me Zipper, since they said when I stood sideways and stuck out my tongue I looked just like a zipper. Probably inappropriate humor toward a middle school guest, but it was funny. And for a girl with a broken, inattentive home, it felt like love.
Their family had planned a two week camping trip from where we lived in Kansas, making stops through Missouri and Arkansas. It was probably the last time I'd be spending time with this family, since most of our home was already packed up, preparing for a move soon after my return.
At the time, my mother lived in Nebraska, where myself and 3 siblings used to live before the divorce a year and half prior. There was about to be a custody battle, and it didn't look good for my Dad who had moved all four of us kids out of State; leaving him little choice but to return. It had been hard for all of us living 8 hours away from our mother, but can only speak for myself when I say those years had also made my heart very very hard. If not for my friend's family accepting me practically as their own, I would have been far more lost than I already was. I didn't know the Lord, neither did my friend or her family, but they must have known more about my situation than I ever let on.
I can't recall how well I knew to pack for this trip, but as I was saying my goodbyes to my Dad, loading my items into the camper, my friend handed me this fun little mesh bag filled with goodies and the mini toiletries. I would need these items for the campground shower houses I had no understanding to prepare for.
The very thought that her mom had shopped for me, just like she did the rest of her children, somehow came flooding over me while I stood there in my kitchen, remembering how loved I felt in that smidgen of a moment.
In an instant I saw God all over me in those days, making sure I was protected, loved and well thought of, through a family who just invited me along...or should I say, bravely invited me along.
I ended up having a severe asthma attack on that trip, nearly ending my earthly life. I had lost consciousness and can't remember much of the details surrounding this traumatizing event; but can tell you for certain, this family will NEVER ever forget ME!
As much as I've tried not to recall much of what went on during those years, astonishingly God still thinks of me too.
So much so, He reached out to heal me, in the middle of banana bread, all these years later; reminding me of His pure goodness and hand on me all throughout my life, even while I didn't know Him.
Maybe you're getting stirred in your heart reading this, being reminded of a time in your own story where you felt unseen or that your needs had gone unmet...maybe it's something so long ago that it wouldn't seem to matter now. You've made peace with it and moved on. It is what it is.
But what if God has a different truth for you?
Will you let Him have his way with that space to restore you...even if it's just one little piece?
How beautiful the unforced ways Christ uses to restore us, one smidgen at a time, freeing up our junk drawer for His original purpose.
Deuteronomy 30:
3 God, your God, will restore everything you lost; he'll have compassion on you; he'll come back and pick up the pieces from all the places where you were scattered. 4 No matter how far away you end up, God, your God, will get you out 6 God, your God, will cut away the thick calluses on your heart and your children's hearts, freeing you to love God, your God, with your whole heart and soul and live, really live.
