Each morning, it sits on the counter, waiting. Empty. Expectant.
The life of a wife and mom can feel unseen and unappreciated with a relentless lineup of unspoken or (loudly) spoken requests. Feed me. Fill me. Change me. Clean me. Watch me. Help me.
But the lunchbox still waits. Filling this emptiness is a small routine of love for my husband. Anticipating his hunger five hours from now, packing the fork, the favorite snack. It is a tangible and forgettable kind of love.
But the fact that he leaves it open for me there to greet me by the coffee pot each dawn is also an act of love. It’s an silent statement of faith and confidence that I will see, remember, provide.
Faithfully our Father fills us. When we come to Him empty, hungry, sometimes even in childish impudence. He is ready and waiting to see and care for our needs, anticipating even those hunger pangs we have yet to experience. We need only open our hearts, to come in faith, to recognize our emptiness.
This morning as you fill your coffee cup, fill empty bellies with breakfast, or fill lunchboxes with sandwiches, take the time to allow your Father to fill your soul. He is ready. He is able. He never forgets or begrudges your need. He loves by filling. We love by needing.
“Nothing in my hands I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress,
Helpless, look to Thee for grace...
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.”