One afternoon I was rooting around the kitchen looking for a snack and discovered my husband’s secret stash of Oreo cookies. There was a reason he’d hidden them—I had a tendency to eat up all the goodies before he could have any. So when I found them, I was kind of mad. I took six of them and popped them in my mouth, one after the other, thinking, “There! Serves you right for trying to hide cookies from me!”
The next thing you know, my husband’s car pulled into the driveway. I was horrified. You know Oreo cookies—they have a distinct smell and are a little dusty to eat. So there I was—reeking of chocolate and a real mess, thinking, “Oh God, I’m caught. Please help me!” It wasn’t my best prayer. But it was the best I could come up with under the circumstances.
I heard an internal voice say: “Go into your office and open your Bible. He never bothers you when you are reading your Bible.” So I did. I high-tailed it into the office and flipped open the Bible to a random page. When I looked down, I read:
