When I take Benjamin with me to Trader Joe's he likes to pick out a few treats. Chocolate milk, salt and vinegar chips, mint chocolate chip ice cream all land in our cart. As I chat with the check out person he cannot resist straightening the chocolate bars perched in a plastic holder for easy impulse buying. No one asks him to, in fact I
forget every time until he starts.
Emptying the dishwasher I purposely do a sloppy job with the silverware. I dump the forks and spoons in willy nilly. The next time Ben has cereal he will open the drawer and line them up. He enjoys this. There is no irritation or vindictive reprimand to everyone within earshot.
A quilt begins with uncut yardage. But then I attack it with a rotary cutter and leave piles of rectangles or triangles littering
the table in decidedly disorderly array. Gradually beauty returns as edges join edges in pleasing lines.
The truth is, our lives are messy. We think it is because God does not bother to hand us perfect ones, but I have a suspicion that He could if He wanted to.
Benjamin likes sprucing up the silverware. There is no doubt that I enjoy wrestling through the ordeal of making quilts a heap more than buying ones that are already
finished.
I wonder, and this is just a thought, if when the story is over we will feel more joy in bringing order to our chaotic paths than if God had chosen to hand us a pristine one on a golden platter.
