For this story to have full effect, you must understand that my mom is a fantastic cook. I am not exaggerating when I say that complete strangers have walked to me up and asked, “Are you Judie Berry’s daughter? She makes the best rolls in the world.”

And she does! She caters weddings and dinner parties and open houses… all with a big smile on her face. She’s as amazing as her food.

I think my sister inherited all of the cooking genes. I can follow Mom’s recipes, and I love to have people over, but let’s just say that The Joy of Cooking is not a book that I own. 
I recently found a recipe that I had written out as a new bride. Now, picture me saying, “Ooohhh, Mom! Can I get that recipe?” and then concentrating carefully as she dictated:
  • Place frozen burritos in dish
  • Pour cream of chicken soup over the top
  • Sprinkle with cheese
  • Microwave for three minutes
Seriously? I needed to write that one down? Apparently so.

Asking Mom for a frozen burrito recipe is like asking Beethoven how to play Chop Sticks. Or Monet to explain a paint-by-number. She’s worthy of the serious cooking questions, like…. Well… I guess I  wouldn’t know what those questions are. But you get the idea.

But even though I’m never going to create gourmet masterpieces, my mom has always welcomed my questions, and given me good advice.

God is like this, too. Even though he is the Master Chef of life, he doesn’t roll his eyes when I come to him with ‘frozen burrito level’ questions. He’s a good Father, who welcomes me. And even if I did reach a ‘gourmet’ level of life expertise, he would still be the Master and I’d still be the novice.

Regardless of our proficiency, God is poised with a loaded serving tray of exquisite, delectable wisdom. He dishes out generous portions to whomever comes with an empty plate and a plea for help. (James 1:5)

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