what is a squiggle?

According to fifth-grade teacher Mrs. Hill, a squiggle is a beginning point, a small, wiggly line on a page with the potential to become something more--a brilliantly drawn fifth-grade picture!

A beginning point. A silly phrase from my preschooler, my teenager rolling his eyes, or my kindergartner deleting my entire 3rd chapter...

Friday, September 17, 2010

Matthew 6:8

"Be not ye therefore like unto them; for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him."

Sometimes the Lord knows what we need even before we know of the need. I read a story about this in the September Friend. But it remained a distant concept to me until I experienced it first hand. Last week as I was dropping off the last of the kids from my carpool, their mother came outside carrying a 10-pound bag of potatoes. She asked if I could use a bag, and I thought about the half bag of potatoes that I had at home that was sprouting leaves and the full bag that I planned to use to make the next day's dinner. "Sure, I could use a bag."

When I arrived home, I told my teenage son that I'd traded three of his siblings for a bag of potatoes and placed the bag on the counter. That was the last thought I gave those potatoes until the next day when I was busy throwing ingredients into the crockpot for dinner. Once a week I have to prepare dinner ahead of time in order for the meal to be ready for our family to eat together in the thirty minute period between finishing the carpool and leaving for scouts and activity days. A crockpot meal on this day is vital.

So I had the meat cooking on the stove, and I was ready to start chopping up the potatoes and toss them into the pot. First I grabbed the bag of growing potatoes and discarded them, and then I reached for the bag I had purchased when I bought groceries the week before. Because they were hidden in their grocery bag still, I hadn't noticed that the entire bag of potatoes had begun to rot, but I smelled them as soon as I picked up the bag. In disbelief, I searched the bag, certain that some of the potatoes were still salvageable. But I was wrong. Every potato was moldy.
At that moment I remembered that new 10-pound bag that sat happily on the counter. I said a prayer of thanks as I washed each firm, fresh potato and cut them into chunks. The Lord had known my need and had filled it, before I was even aware of it.

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