FOODFORTHOUGHT

IS GOD DANCING ON YOUR POTATO CHIPS?

Author Unknown

July 2, 2012

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 the Tupperware container 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.

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.