First of all, what is the appropriate name for Tupperware containers? Plastic food storage boxes? I dunno. But I was thinking tonight about how my tupperware cabinet sometimes feels like my life.
In my tupperware cabinet, I have a few leftover real tupperware that we got as wedding gifts. Mostly it's full of old food containers like sour cream bins. I've also got some pots in there, some plastic mixing bowls, two strainers, a steamer, a few plastic pitchers, a bundt pan, and some large plastic cups and bottles. It's the biggest cabinet in my kitchen so that's where all the junk goes.
What I find so funny is just how disorganized it is. I literally throw items in there and shut the door just fast enough to prevent something from falling over on the floor. The girls like to get into it and I often find the old food containers (my current "tupperware") around the house. It's really a total junk mess, as my mom would put it.
A few times a year I organize it only to find it back in shambles a few days later. It's not unlike many other things in my house, the pantry, the closets, the junk drawer. But somehow this cabinet might just be the worst of them, one that almost has no hope of recovery because of the diversity of items it holds. I mean how can you stack a bundt pan, a sour cream container, and a stainless steel sauce pan and expect them to stand?
This feels like my life right now. I'm trying to balance my spiritual life with my housekeeping flaws, my fears with my hopes and dreams, and my jellybeans with my caesar salad. Then I just slam the door shut and hope that one of those things doesn't fall by the wayside! And it doesn't through the grace of God.
I think my life will always be a broken mess of Megablocks and phone bills, of Saint icons and restaurant kid cups, of dog food and homeschooling books. Nothing seems to fit together quite right. But somehow Christ is able to make a useable tupperware cabinet with me...all my faults and failings, my weaknesses and fears. I try to tidy things up but it doesn't keep for long. Nevertheless, he knows that the steamer still works okay even though it has a broken leg. He also knows that a little bit of broccoli always gets stuck in the holes. I kind of like that steamer with its broken leg and bits of broccoli, just like my Heavenly Father loves me with all my quirks and all my failings...in fact, that's what's appealing about me. I just wish I had a brand new steamer sometimes.