Jared mozied on into the kitchen, and I gave him a hug. “What’s that sweet smell?” he asked, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “I was just cooking,” I replied, waiting for him to notice the cookies.
Usually Jared can spot something new in our house within seconds (especially if it involves cars or sweets). But this time it was taking him longer… and longer… and longer than ever to notice the cookies. He must not see them, I had to conclude after three minutes and no request for cookies. I crouched down next to Jared until our eyes were at the same level. Then I looked up at the stove. I was too low to see the cookies! The lip of the cookie sheet was just high enough to conceal its contents from four-year-old eyes. I straightened up and laughed to myself at the sight: Jared standing a foot away from a pan full of chocolate chip cookies, and he didn’t even know it! After a few minutes he left the kitchen and I started on the dishes, still marveling at my revelation. (This opens up worlds of food-hiding possibilities, you know.)
As I thought more about it, I realized what a good analogy this is for life. Lately a number of my friends and family members have experienced various difficulties—things that go wrong and they don’t know why: the death of a loved one, chronic illness, fruitless job searching, the list goes on. Even Adam and I feel uncertain about what the future will hold for us now that grad school is drawing to a close. Yet isn’t our Father in Heaven—in a way—our omnipotent chef? He has prepared something wonderful and sweet for each of us; experiences and opportunities that are just beyond our reach. And, when the time and circumstances are right, he will lead us to the sweet thing he has prepared. Not too soon, lest we miss out on the test of our faith that precedes the blessing (or, in Jared’s case, not before the cookies had cooled, snack time had arrived, and Allison had woken up to join us).
When we are waiting hungrily in a seemingly barren kitchen, we may be tempted to feel like Heavenly Father has forgotten us or is unaware of our circumstances. But he is always standing right there next to us, viewing our lives with a broad eternal perspective. He sees the challenges that we face, as well as the blessings that are right around the corner—if only we will endure faithfully our small moments of trial and trust in him.
