The Lesson of The Lunchbox

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.
Galatians 5:13

While enjoying a lovely meal with two other Christian couples recently, the conversation somehow turned to lunch. Now, I am not sure how or why the discussion took this route but I once it did, I began to have a slow revelation, followed by a lesson to ponder as well! 
The home was beautiful, the company divine and the food was fine. The conversation flowed and I felt blessed to be with these friends. Both of the women in my company that night were women I would say are admirable by any standard. I happen to have had the privilege to pray regularly with one of them, who also is a gifted business women, spirit-filled believer and has served as Co-Leader in ministry with me. The other would be described as brilliant and successful. She amazes us with her ability to multi -task  both in and out of the home and may I add she could defend the world with one giant leap and a word (is called in to Washington for advice/wisdom in her area of expertise). So as I sit and enjoy their presence, the turn happens and suddenly we are talking lunch. 
As in the fact that I make my husband his lunch every day for work.

Now those of you who know me or follow me, know that I am a Rebel Christian Chick and far from the sweet, gentle, domestic bird I am yet to be. Yet, there are a couple of things my husband really does appreciate that I do. One is making his lunch…and this radical behavior caused quite an uprising at that table that evening as the jaws dropped and confessions were spoken. “You make him lunch? How non-traditional!” Is it ironic making a husband’s lunch…ie. serving him is not considered the norm? Now, let me say this- these are Christian women. Both do have careers but also a reverence for God. The chuckle I got was because here I was, Ms. Not Very Traditional  Christian Chick, suddenly the most old- fashioned, totally traditional June Cleaver at the table. Ha and hardy ha, God and I chuckled. 
Now, let me tell you how this one thing has been the most surprising testimony you could ever imagine. This one very small act of service which was instigated, early in my marriage, by a dear friend who opened her mouth and uttered the same words, over dinner, the first year my hub and I tied the knot. “I make him his lunch every day.” she said. Me still being in a state of shock over the whole submission element of marriage almost fainted dead on. Yet it was early in my marriage. I was daring, reckless and ready to tackle anything to be The Proverbs 31 Woman, I knew God wanted me to be… or at least I was willing to try. I mean really what did I know? If the truth be known I wanted to choke her right then and there. But I refrained, because that’s what friends do. Besides…despite my fleshly resistance I really did want to be a good wife. Somewhere very deep inside. Sigh. 
So there I was inducted into a world of lunch making women. 
A dying breed, bordering on extinction apparently.
At first I did it a bit reluctantly. Then I began to get my groove. Soon, this one little act of service was the talk of the lunchroom where my husband works. 
Daily, his employees and co-workers longingly check in. 
“What did your wife pack you today?”
“Your wife packs you lunch every day?”
Day in and day out, he is the focus of attention, object of jealousy, 
admiring comments and endless curiosity.
God began to teach this Chick over time, 
that He can indeed use the smallest act of service to bring glory to Himself.
He surprised me, by showing me that He is indeed working in me. 
And that my friends is very good news!
All because of a lunchbox.


“For who has despised the day of small things?
But these seven will be glad when they see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel– these are the eyes of the LORD which range to and fro throughout the earth.”
Zechariah 4:10
Linking with Ann, Courtney, Darlene,  Shanda, Tracy, and  Jennifer
GettingDownWithJesus

The ABC’s of Love (Part 4) Two Worlds Collide

What does real love look like?

If you have read the previous posts (see links below) you know that my view of marriage was shaky at best. 
God is still redeeming and transforming my mind and me so this is not something that I take lightly. My husband has a Catholic background and a stronger positive impression of marriage than I, thanks to the sweet example of his parents who have been married for 54 years. Our backgrounds are as different as night and day. But God did marry the night and day after all in Genesis, now that I think of it. A creative match maker He is, I would dare say! 
It was July. 1983. I am working at a little Salad/Yogurt place in Downtown, Providence called Natural Sweetness. I am in the role of Supervisor at 18 years old. He begins work after school, 16. I am his boss. 
See me smiling. See God beginning His amusing work and knitting destiny, unknowingly to us. I am getting back on track after a young life of, for lack of a better word, rebellion. Which at this point, really is not finished. His mom works across the street at Blue Cross and has landed him an after school job by inquiring of the boss. 
He comes in and I hand him one of my infamous “To Do” lists. I am obsessed with keeping the upstairs well stocked. He lugs bottles, jugs, jars and boxes up and down the stairs. It is my job to train him. Train him I do. I hand him the mop. I close out the register. He quietly works. At the end of our shift he takes a bus home. I take a bus to the other side of the city. 
I am not sure at what point we become friends. I observe him. Young, hard-working. I feel old. Well beyond my years. I feel somewhat protective of him and yet, I myself am in need of protection. I am crass to his class, and we do become friends, eventually. What it means at the time is not what either of us expect.
The beginning of our friendship will be the start of a commitment of a lifetime. But at this point in time he is in school and I am travelling a road to nowhere. But God, my friends, is in it. Right from the start. Isn’t He always?
If anyone would have said to me right then, this is your future husband, I would have thought they were crazy. I was not figuring him anymore than God because at this point God was as distant to me as the possibility of marrying him. Or anyone. But, God. 
Next Time I will write about our first very amusing “date”…
P.S. The picture above was taken during our anniversary last year aboard 

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