Today I put a bagel into the toaster. Since the process of browning takes a couple of minutes, I put stray bowls in the dishwasher. There was still time, so I wiped the counter, and put the crumpled wrappings in the trash. Then came the familiar pop, and I happily spread my vegan cream cheese. 

 

It wasn't a long wait, and I actually felt better having tidied up, than if I had tapped my toes. 

 

The same thing happens when there are onions simmering on the stove. I give attention to the rest of the kitchen, while I stay close enough to keep them from burning. 

 

It all felt like a metaphor. When I am tempted to be impatient with a stuck relationship, or a bruised knee, or a conundrum at work, life slides other tasks in front of me, partly to amuse me, and also as a distraction. 

 

It is a satisfying sensation, to tidy up, and yet I have been known to put it off. When I am at the sink anyway, it feels less like a chore and more like a choosing. 

 

God is fond of protecting our freedom. He also has a timeline that eludes our awareness. Hence, the trickery.