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I looked carefully at the blue drops as I squeezed them into the used water bottle now filled with apple juice. I had already tried red gel food coloring, and that had been a total disaster. I ended up dumping the juice into a cup so I could extract the red, slimy blob that refused to co-mingle with the apple juice. The goal was for the blue food coloring to keep the apple juice (that I had poured into sundry and well used bottles) from looking like you-know-what. If you don't have boys who at times relieve themselves in similar sundry and well-used bottles that often float around the floorboard of your car, then you might not know the "you-know-what" to which I'm referring.

I was in the middle of packing each of my four boys a lunch from the dregs of the lunch food. The seriousness with which I approached the task made me smile. I had four paper bags lined up on the back edge of the kitchen island, each with a name: Max, Mark, Jack, and Grant. All I had left for sandwiches was peanut butter and jelly. My oldest son Max is not too fond of pb&j. So, I fixed him peanut butter only on the two best pieces of bread because he wouldn't have jelly on his sandwich to "freshen up" the end of the bread loaf. It went in the "Max" bag. The other three got peanut butter and jelly- with lots of jelly.

The chip decision was a little more complicated. Jackson is notorious for eating the lunch food at non-lunch-food times, so when I found the Cheetos bag one quarter of the way full, it was safe for me to assume that Jack had been involved in the plunder. So, he got a handful of plain ol' tortilla chips. Max volunteered for tortilla chips, which meant I could split the smattering of broken Cheetos between Mark and Grant.

Now I was looking at my bottles of blue apple juice. Two of the bottles were nice, neat bottles that had formerly been filled with Gatorade. Blue apple juice could certainly be mistaken for Gatorade, so I gave those bottles to my two boys (who will remain unnamed) who aren't comfortable with the potential of being uncool. Now I had 2 water bottles. One was decent; the other had been smashed a little. Hmm. Which of the remaining two boys would do best with the smashed water bottle?

And now I found myself laughing out loud as I played God of the Lunch Bags. Is this how God feels as He decides what we can handle? Sometimes our lunch bag holds the product of our own decisions (like a few smashed Cheetos.) Sometimes it contains bad things and good things over which we have no control: a cradle full of boys or girls, a parent who dies, a stock market slump.

Yet God is there, watching over what goes in, making sure the lunch we have won't give us food poisoning or a proud spirit. Psalm 116:5 says "LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure."

On some days, our lunch may not look so good, but the One who watched over its preparation has a feast waiting for us when we finally get home.

"'Christ in You...'" from Dale Krebbs

The Saints Who Slept