Note: This blog is part of a Thanksgiving series of blogs highlighting attributes of God for which I am thankful.
It was one of the most brilliant ideas of my young life…or at least the best idea of that long lunch.
I was born not liking peas. Try as hard as I might (which wasn’t very hard) to change my tastes, I couldn’t. It must be part of my DNA.
Before I was even old enough to reason through likes and dislikes, I knew that peas were not to be ingested—not by me, anyway. My mom has tales of how as a two-year-old, I would store peas in the sides of my cheeks refusing to swallow them. She says that when we had mixed vegetables, I could even sort the peas out from the corn and carrots while they were all in my mouth and swallow the corn and carrots while storing the peas. Apparently, I even once kept supper peas in my cheeks undetected until morning. Another time, a distraught nursery worker returned me to my parents with full cheeks of peas.
It took me a few years, but one day at lunch, I had a brilliant idea of what to do with my peas. My oldest sister, Nichole, was in charge, and both of my parents were gone. Peas had been served with lunch, and everyone else had long since finished. There I sat at the table with peas staring at me. (And peas make such awful faces when they stare.)
I chanced a look around the room, and who else should be staring up at me but Raven, our loyal dog. That’s it! I congratulated myself on my idea. I’ll give all the peas to Raven!
With great stealth, I began to drop the peas to the floor one at a time. Nichole was in sight, so I dare not be too brash and put the plate on the floor all at once. In fact, I tried to keep my motions as restrained as possible, not even checking to see how Raven was receiving her treat.
Just as I was finishing, Nichole happened to turn to the kitchen. “What on earth?! Why is the kitchen floor covered with peas?”
You guessed it—Raven’s DNA objected to peas as well. She hadn’t touched them.
If there was ever a moment I thought my sister was merciful, it was when she swept the peas into the dustpan and discarded them in the trash. In case I forgot to tell you then, Nichole, thank you!!
Since then, I’ve developed better social skills, and I manage to eat peas now. But my DNA still objects. I have to argue with myself. They’re good for you. You want to show gratefulness to your host. And other like reasons.
Sometimes we treat the Lord and our relationship with Him as if it were a bowl of peas. We don’t have any interest or desire in it, but we know it is good for us to seek the Lord. And so we force ourselves to do it.
Or we don’t. We do like all the kids in the other families who were allowed not to eat their peas (blessed children!). We just don’t seek a relationship with Him at all because we think it’s boring or difficult.
Could I tell you something? God is delightful! He is desirable!
When He tells us to delight ourselves in Him (Psalm 37:4), it is because there is so much in Him to delight in!
O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.—Psalm 34:8
Who but God can make this offer and promise? Come to Me, and you will find that I am good!
Do you find delight in God? If not, maybe you’re not really coming to Him.