I was such a doll person as a little girl. Maternal instinct poured out of me, and every one of my dolls was coddled and comforted and treated like gold. I remember a “Tiny Tears” doll (if you know what I’m talking about, I know how old you are.) with curly brown hair that was my baby for years. I didn’t own a lot of dolls, but when I ran out, I would make more dolls from tissues, and tuck tissue blankets over them. My tissue usage was a topic of serious discussion between my mother and me.
My Grandma West had a bed covered in dolls. When I visited, I stood mesmerized, watching them. Grandma would buy cheap, plastic dolls and crotchet frilly dresses for them. She sold them and donated the money to charity. I peeked from the doorway. Dolls in ball gown, baby dolls, fashion dolls in skinny skirts, and fancy dolls in regal robes. Every possible style and shade was represented.
But I couldn’t touch.
I seemed perfectly reasonable to Grandma. She was going to sell these dolls, and didn’t need grubby fingers messing with them. What she didn’t know, because she didn’t understand me, was that dollies were my children, and I would have treated them with the greatest care. Even the tissue dolls were handled with care, and were the subjects of elaborate imaginings. As I stared in the room, I saw balls and dancing,wide-eyed babies being strolled through the park, and well-dressed business women on their way to their jobs in the city.
But not with me. I could look but not touch.
In talking about my Grandma this week, the memory came to me of standing in the doorway, staring at the dolls. The feelings followed–profound sadness, insecurity, anger. Why couldn’t I touch those dolls?
Isn’t it amazing that God isn’t like that?
“Taste and see that the Lord is good. How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him. Ps. 34:8 Or my personal favourite from The Message, “Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see–how good God is. Blessed are you who run to Him.”
God stands in the room and beckons to me. To you. “Come in. Play, enjoy. Read My Word. Talk to Me. I have so much for you. Come!”
What is my response? Do I fly into His arms, eager for all He has for me?
Or…?
How have you tasted and seen the goodness of the Lord today?