Long ago on Saturday nights, I was allowed one bowl of Corell’s potato chips and a glass of coke. Needless to say, that bowl of potato chips disappeared way too quickly. In time, I figured out how to stretch those delicious morsels. I would suck on them until they were on the verge of soft. Prolonging the sensation made them taste all the better as they slid down my throat.
Going to sound a little trivial, but I really do have a Gratitude Attitude tonight for that bowl of potato chips. But mostly, for all the things that surrounds the memory of eating those tasty crunch-ables.
Even 67 year into this journey, I find myself savoring as slowly as possible those small (and I do mean small) bowls of chips – – even though they won’t ever be as good as the chips that were once made just down the street from my house. That chip house where we all tried to make multiple stops on Halloween (it never worked since they could see right through those disguises and call us by name).
“But now, this is what the LORD says– he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.”~Is 43:1
Potato chips are a form of tasty food though my food conscious kids would probably not agree that it should be classified as food. Then again, it isn’t really the food I treasure – even though its salty taste does seem to balance me out occasionally. It is rather the memories that slide out of my brain every time I bite down on those crispy chips that really catch in my throat.
Sitting with Mom and Dad. Sometimes curled into my dad’s side sharing a bowl of chips as we watch the Saturday night shows. Sometimes standing on Dad’s toes as he taught me to dance. Sometimes watching Mom and Dad dance. Mom and Dad singing along with songs on the turntable like Della Reese or Nat King Cole or Perry Como or Judy Garland. Sometimes all of us singing at the top of our lungs with The Mitch Miller Sing A-long Show.
The Gratitude Attitude is real for that small bowl of chips in my hand tonight. Yeah – it isn’t Saturday. Yeah, the parents are dancing in Heaven these days. But – the God who watches Israel continues to watch over me. He sends a tiny Godwink reminding me that He knows me and calls me by name. He put me just where I am supposed to be – at just the right time – with just the right people.
I am overwhelmed with thankfulness tonight and humbled once again.