The other day, I was helping out at my church’s annual Fall Festival, a community outreach intended to be an alternative to Halloween. Since I am a recovering compulsive overeater, I signed up to do something far away from the food: a game. When I arrived I remembered that every game station gives candy to each child as a participation prize. No biggie. Right? I can handle being around a little candy, even if I believe it is poison and part of me resents that we dole it out to children like pushers of narcotic substances. As our game station’s supply ran low of the toxic “treats” I inquired what to do, and was immediately whisked away to help out in another way. I was put in the candy closet, usually a nursery supply room, but on this occasion filled with bags of every imaginable kind of candy. There I was told to fill several bags and carry them to each game station. The recovering food and sugar addict was put in charge of the candy closet! Immediately, I felt as though I was not alone. The same Provider of my salmon salad was there with me in the sugar stash, seeing me through the task and helping me to abstain. I delivered the evil wares to the various booths and returned to the solitude of the candy closet. This time, since I had let myself in rather than being escorted, I was even more aware of the lack of witnesses. One witness remained – the God who had brought me this far. Then I remembered another witness – you. I was immediately grateful to be in the care of a loving God and accountable to a supporting fellowship. I made it through the evening alive, sane, abstinent, and hoarse from all the fun hollering I did hosting a “Slime Toss” at that carnival booth. I honestly don’t know who had more fun, the kids or me.
Dear Father, today, may I remain keenly aware of Your presence with me. I thank You for Your paternal love, guidance and discipline. I recognize that, while You do not tempt man, You may allow me to be tempted, if for no other reason than to demonstrate to me that You are able to overcome whatever circumstances might threaten me. I rest in Your hands today, and thank You for Your care. In Your hands may I be useful and not harmful. Amen!