One Humble Sandwich

By: Charity Gutierrez

I stood in my kitchen teary eyed  feeling lonely and down hearted.  My husband had taken off for another trip and though one would think I should be used to it by now… none the less it still is hard.   I wanted to hide my face from my kids but that is not an easy thing to do. 

Meanwhile, the kids had spotted our neighbor and his family outside who happens to be a Youth Pastor at a church in our town.    His family has young children as well and we visit with them randomly.  I noticed them outside as well.  The pastor and his wife were busy visiting with another mom and her kids in the neighborhood. The pastor was throwing up one of his sons in the air and laughing as he caught him in his arms. 

At that moment I actually felt jealous and somewhat angry with my situation.  I thought, “Why can’t my husband be home throwing up my son in his arms?”  In almost an out-of-body experience I had to check my emotions.   Who am I to question or get angry with God’s plan for our life right now?  Who am I to complain about not having my husband home for a few days? 

Thank God that I have a loving husband, who is home as often as his job allows.  A husband whose heart is to be home with us.  Better to have a husband who is gone and who wants to be home than a husband who is home and wants to be gone.  I do not dare take for granted that I have him in my life.  I realize that days without him could be weeks.  Weeks without him could be months.  Months without him could be years.  Years without him could be a lifetime.  A lifetime without him could be an eternity. 

Whenever my husband is gone there is an emptiness in me that no other person can fill.  There is a vacancy in our home and in my heart.  There is a longing to see his face.  There is a sweet sorrow that always reminds me of the way God feels about me and the way I should always feel about God.   I constantly remind myself that all my husband is to me is a precious gift from my true husband, my saviour, my God and my maker… his name is Jesus. 

So as I stood heavy-hearted in my kitchen, reflecting on all these things I thought, “What I should do is go across the street and just ask them to pray for me.”  But then I rationalized that thought with all the reasons I should not, even telling myself that I was okay and did not really need prayer.

My six year-old walked in and asked me what was wrong.  I told him I was sad and he stood for a minute and then said, “What you need to do is go across the street and ask them to pray for you.”  I stood amazed.  What were the chances he would say that?  What was I to say?  What example would I give in this situation? The prideful side of me wanted to act like I did not need it, yet I knew I did.  I made a mental compromise and I told him that they were busy talking to someone else but we would go and I would ask if they were still outside.

Now my son, like all of us, can be a plotter and schemer.  So I told him, “We are not going to play.”  He said, “I know mommy but they need to pray for you.”  I was impressed by his heart.  So we all got ready and by the time we crossed the street they were already in their house.  I told my son, “Well they have already gone inside.”  At his point I’m thinking “Of course I could just knock on the door but I don’t really want to.”  Almost at the same time he says, “You just need to knock on the door.”

At this point I realized that what God was orchestrating was something far bigger than me.  My son was piercing into my heart with every reply.  My pride was being challenged and I was dragging my heels.  He on the other hand was moving boldly in his faith with no hesitation and was desperate to lead me to where he felt I needed to go.  My son may as well have handed me a “Humble Sandwich” and said, “Take a Bite.”  I thank God that he gave me the insight to see what was going on in the midst of the situation.   I stepped towards the door and placed my order to the Master Chef.  I could just picture the sound of a voice from the kitchen, “One Humble Sandwich Coming Right Up.”

As soon as I stepped the Pastor walked out and asked how we were doing.  I tried to look kept together and as I was thinking of what to say suddenly my son blurts out, “My mommy is sad and she needs you to pray for her.”  In seconds my “kept together” facade had been ripped off .  The Pastor looked into my eyes.   As much as I tried to hold in the tears, I could not.  I had revealed a part of myself that he or his wife had never seen.  In that moment he just said, “Come on in” and invited us into his house.

He then invited us to stay and have dinner and I agreed.  His family prayed for ours.  The kids played and I no longer felt lonely.  I felt like I was with family.  As we walked back across the street I was so grateful that God used my son to speak to me.  And I was so glad that I took a huge bite of the Humble Sandwich. 

I am convinced that God is always there.  There are times that I may not “feel” it, but I cannot deny his presence.  Every time that I feel weak he strengthens me.  Every time I feel alone, he assures me he is there. Every time I want to pull away he does something to pull me closer. It is when I submit to his leading that the blessings come.  I know one day I will be led into his presence and at the front door to his house.  On that day he will look at my heart and see me for who I am.  He will look in my heart and see a heart that has been longing to be with him, longing to see his face.  He will dry my tears and say, “Come on in.”

Psalm 25:9
He leads the humble in what is right,and teaches the humble his way.