|by Delia Latham|
Psalm 34:8–O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.
My eight-year-old grandson wrinkled his nose and eyed the two chicken casseroles I had pulled from the oven as he watched. For the past ten minutes, he’d been loudly insisting that he was starving “to death,” really, truly, he was!
Now, however, one little eyebrow lifted high, and one little turned-up nose—well…turned up. “I don’t like that.” He twisted his lips in a cute little snarl that was meant to be tough. “Don’t want none.”
I ignored his grammar gaffe with effort. There is a time for everything, I reminded myself.
“How do you know you don’t like it?” I reasoned. “You haven’t tasted it yet.”
“I don’t!” He clamped his lips together and curled them in as tightly as he could manage. His big blue eyes never left the casserole.
I followed his gaze and took a good look at the dish, which is always a favorite at family gatherings. The wonderful aroma made my mouth water—good thing I’d made one for us, or the other one might never make it to the church potluck. Looking at it now through a child’s eyes, however, I had to admit it might lack a bit of visual zip.
“Oh, Logan, I love this stuff!” I injected more enthusiasm than was really merited into the announcement, then scooped a bite onto a fork and blew on it to cool it down. “It’s my favorite. Come on, sweetie…taste it for Nanny. Please?”
He gave me a sour look, but opened his lips just enough for me to slide a small bite between them. His expression said I was asking far more than was fair of a grandmother.
I saw the very instant when he realized the casserole tasted better than it looked. He lifted a wide-eyed gaze to mine. “Hey! It’s kinda good!”
“Well, you tried it anyway.” I tousled his hair and made as if to put the casserole back in the oven to stay warm for the rest of the family. “You don’t have to eat it.”
“No, wait! Nanny! I like it. I really do.”
“Well, OK, if you’re sure...”
He climbed onto a stool drawn up to the kitchen bar. “Yeah.” His little shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I mean, you made it and everything. Might as well eat it, I guess.”
I bit back my laughter and set a plate in front of him. Watching him chow down, I was suddenly slammed quite forcefully with a truth that made me ashamed: Logan’s behavior was similar to that of many adults—myself included—who seem to have trouble trusting God.
Why is that, I wonder? He gives us good gifts every day. And our Father doesn’t stop at what we “need.” He sets out to give us the desires of our hearts. Yet we turn up our noses and reject His love, because sometimes it isn’t in a pretty package. Sometimes it looks like something we do not want—no way, no how.
Despite all He does to bless us, we still haven’t learned to trust Him. In order to give us the gifts He brings, and to do for us what we need the most, God almost has to pry our spiritual jaws open and force us to partake of His blessings.
And every time, we are forced to sheepishly acknowledge—all over again—that the Lord is good.
In my story, Lexi’s Heart, my heroine has major trust issues. Lexi doesn’t trust anyone—including God—except her mother, who is sinking further and further under the murky waters of Alzheimer’s. From the first, little reminders to trust God keep being put in her path. Eventually, of course, she has to open herself up to God and to love (same thing, right?) in order to find her happiness.
The same is true of us. Until we open our mouths wide enough to “taste and see,” we’ll never be able to completely partake of the bounty God has prepared for us.
To paraphrase my little sweetie, God’s already “made it and everything.” Seems only right to sample the offering….
And I can almost see Him not bothering to bite back His laughter at the very moment He sees us wake up to the knowledge that His blessings are good—every time.
Lexi’s Heart blurb:
Her heart. His faith. Love reborn.
Forty-three-year-old Lexi Carlisle’s abusive marriage ended three years ago. Deeply scarred by the experience, and helplessly watching her beloved mother succumb to Alzheimers, Lexi is devastated. After selling her fancy home, she rents a cottage in Heart’s Haven, a special place unlike any other. Slowly learning to live again, she despairs of ever delivering the message of love that burns within her heart for her ever-worsening mother. But Mitch Gaynor, a handsome Christian author, reminds Lexi that with God all things are possible, planting within her battered and distrustful heart the seed of hope for a miracle. But can she open her fortressed heart to God? And is Mitch a part of His plans for her future?
A little about Delia~~
Born and raised in Weedpatch, California, Delia Latham moved to Oklahoma in '08, making her a self-proclaimed California Okie. She loves to read and write in her country home, and gets a kick out of watching her husband play Farmer John. She's a Christian wife, mother, grandmother, sister and friend, but especially loves being a princess daughter to the King of Kings. She loves Dr. Pepper and hearing from her readers. Contact her through her website, her blog, or her Facebook author page.
Delia writes inspirational romance and women's fiction, and is currently contracted through White Rose Publishing (a division of Pelican Book Group) and Vinspire Publishing.