I’ve been a little overwhelmed with life lately. On top of the normal frenetic pace of school, my wife’s schedule has been insane. As an organizer for the AIM women’s retreat, she has been feverishly working up until this past weekend for the retreat. Also, she’s a class sponsor in charge of coordinating a drama/musical for our school’s version of prom. In the midst of her busyness, my busyness also has increased (mostly around the house with mundane, “daily living” type stuff). Sadly, when I get busy, it’s often my time alone with God that goes.
So this morning, while I’m watching the boys, I knew I wouldn’t be able to lock myself in my room and spend some time with the Lord. I knew that a traditional “quiet time” wouldn’t happen. But I needed so desperately to be close to Him and have Him breathe new life in my dry and dusty soul. I had to do something.
I opened a 15 pound box of dry powdered cheese sauce.
First off, the cheese sauce was sent by a supporter in Pennsylvania who knows about my sons’ addictions to macaroni and cheese. He found some bulk bags of it and sent it our way. While my boys do REALLY love mac-n-cheese, they can’t eat a vat full of it in one sitting. When I broke open this box this morning, I set myself to the task of breaking the 7 huge bags down into 100 small bags.
And that’s how I found myself back at the foot of the cross. As my fingers repetitively scooped and dumped and cinched, scooped and dumped and cinched, I found my mind focusing in on God’s welcoming embrace. As the cheese powder fumes caked the inside of my nose and mouth, I found myself breathing out prayers that I hadn’t been real enough to express in weeks.
The boys left me alone. (After all, I was just busy doing work in the kitchen in their eyes and of no use at all for their amusement.) I had one hour with God, a better hour than I’ve had in weeks, all by myself, in the kitchen, standing over a bowl of artificial cheese powder.
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