Do you ever feel as if no one is watching?

Theology in the Trenches
Kathleen Kjolhaug
Friday, March 29, 2019
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Religion Columnist

It was just me and her. Like a shadow the little one moved round and about the room. I was watching because after all, she was my charge for the day. Little Lakynn Rose and I were at home while her big sister was off at preschool.

It was a normal afternoon, or so I thought as she made her way back and forth between play areas. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the refrigerator door open and close while little toes tipped past. Not thinking much of it, I let her play in peace.

After several minutes, I thought I’d best see what she was up to as I could have sworn I just saw a milk jug moving rapidly towards the carpet. A quick check proved I had been correct as in tow I caught her with exactly that. Redirecting her was easy enough and a crisis was diverted!

I then went back to double check, and all appeared to be in order. The new ottoman (big footstool) was the only piece of furniture to look just a tad off kilter. Odd, I thought, the top half of it looks just a little twisted. Perhaps some screws had come loose and I need to tighten them.

Taking a closer look, I noticed that the big footstool had a storage unit within … something I did not know. As I moved the top half back, my eyes held fast to that which was hidden. Nestled within the new WHITE ottoman, was one ketchup bottle at full tilt, a jar of mustard rolling round, barbeque sauce trying to contain itself from free flowing elsewhere and every liquid ingredient from the door of the fridge that had been confiscated. Each had found a home in the hideout.

No contents had spilled up to this point and I thought it wise to whisk away any opportunity for leakage. To the fridge I did dash placing each item back while trying not to give voice to the depths of panic raging within.

Lakynn Rose watched undaunted … heeding my suggestion that perhaps we’d best keep these food items in the fridge. My words must have been palatable because quickly she dashed off elsewhere to play.

I love little miracles which involve the least of these. At least they still had a functioning couch. At least grandma didn’t get upset. At least we learned a little something without too much ado. Sometimes life lessons are easier than not … at least.

Matthew 25:40 says, “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”

May the least of these always know that they are of far greater value than anything we own or any situation they find themselves in. Amen.

( Kathleen Kjolhaug is a religion columnist.)