It was a genius idea. Or so I thought.  

Photo by Jonathan Fenske


We had some croutons that did not weather the overnight stay in our refrigerator. Really wanting crunchy croutons, I decided that the best thing to do would be to revive them in the toaster oven. And then I sat down to read the Denver Post. The croutons toasted on.  

When I was really digging into a story about proposed tax breaks for a new Target store in Denver, my husband alerted me to the flaming little bits of bread in the toaster oven. I grabbed an oven mitt, removed the burnt croutons and proceeded to fling the smoking nuggets into the backyard.

The day was sunny, the air warm (and accented with the smell of burned bread). Those black cubes of useless bread flew up into the air. The children squealed and laughed because it’s not every day mom tosses out the bread on its ear.  

I laughed, too. Because it’s no big deal. Sometimes things don’t work out right. Or it’s time to start over. A simple kitchen mistake can teach a girl a lot of things.  

A week ago, I wrote a blog post draft that I just couldn’t seem to make say what I needed it to say. I get very little time to write, so I was frustrated. I saw down for an hour, two hours and wrestled with the blog post. The baby cried. Someone fell out of bed. I had to abandon the writing. A few days later, I read in my devotional that I should not take myself so seriously.  

And then I burned the bread.  

Tonight, the stars aligned. Children slept. Even little nursing babies who want milk every two minutes. The house was quiet, so I tiptoed down and opened the wretched blog post, hoping it had magically become perfect. It had not.  

So, tonight I toss out burned toast. I throw my arms around the times when life just doesn’t seem to go right. In big and small ways, Jesus is showing me that when I have him, the other stuff just doesn’t matter too much. I can rest easy and free in his hands. If he is for us, who can be against us?  

When I get too hung up on the burnt things in my life, I miss the gentle voice of the Savior. I miss depending on him with my problems. Because it is in the dependence that he draws so close. If I am fretting about my problems and how I am going to fix them, I can too easily walk away from his beautiful love that promises to take on my burnt things, if only I will hand them over.  

What about you? What burnt things can you toss out this week?  


5 thoughts on “Tossing the Burnt Things

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