First of all, this will not be a Christmastime Jesus Juke about how you shouldn’t buy presents. I’m too shallow for something like that.
Still buy presents.
Presents are fun.
And this really is not specifically tied to Christmastime anyway. It’s tied to my refrigerator.
There is no secret about what I thought my life would look like at the age I am now. I thought I would have a husband, at least one kid, and at least one house. To-date, I have no husbands, no kids, and an apartment. Like most single people that I know, my heart longs for a family that I create with a man that loves me enough to give me his last name. (That unintentionally sounds like a potentially bad country song. My apologies.)
I grew hearing things like, “Well, work on being content in the Lord, and once you’re fully satisfied in Him, He will bring you the right man!” and “Just keep working on being the best wife you can be so God can bring you a husband!” And, as far as I can tell, that’s a load of B.S.
You don’t eat dinner once to the point of satisfaction and never eat a meal again.
God doesn’t work that way. He doesn’t dangle the deepest desires of your heart out in front of you, just waiting for that magical moment when your chakras align and He can send Mr. Right to your doorstep. He is not waiting for me to reach some point of maturity, signaling that I have earned a right to get what I want.
But He is faithful, even when my deepest desires remain just that – a desire. Desire means “to long or hope for.” A definition that insinuates you don’t have the thing.
And the thing my refrigerator is telling me right now is that He, indeed, is faithful.
And that it is okay to continue hoping for that which I do not have.
He is faithful in His ordinary presence.
He is faithful in the gift of His people.
He is faithful in unexpectedly fulfilling the desires I so deeply long for.
I told my friend recently that I truly don’t know what to do with all of the love inside of my body for the miniBFFs in my life. (Shoutout to Annie F. Downs for that oh-so-appropriate term.)
It is difficult to comprehend why God would allow me to be ordinarily present in their lives.
That I can show up on a Tuesday night because I forgot my coat and be tackled by a toddler.
That another can ask his mom why I still haven’t taken my picture from his house to bring it to mine (even though he told me I had to keep it there…).
That with just a look these little people are the face of God Himself to me.
The gift of presence is that my longings matter.
My wants matter.
My heart matters.
And God is not unfaithful to give me what I want.
He gives me exactly what I want in ways I never knew I wanted them. And my refrigerator is reminding me of that tonight.
Kayla Smith 