God Put Me in a Toaster

Have you ever considered that a piece of bread has no idea what's about to happen when it goes into a toaster?

One minute it's sitting comfortably on the counter. The next minute it's dropped into a dark slot, exposed to heat, and wondering what in the world just happened.

Then eventually... pop.

Toast.

Lately, I've been wondering if that isn't a pretty good picture of what God has been doing in my life.

A little over a year ago, my role at a church I loved was eliminated. It was work I felt called to do. More than that, it was a community I deeply loved. I had spent years building relationships with volunteers, leaders, and friends. We were moving in the same direction together.

Then suddenly, we weren't.

I found myself asking questions I never expected to ask.

What now?

Where do I belong?

What's next?

What I didn't realize at the time was that God wasn't abandoning me. He was preparing me.

I entered what I now affectionately call my "Esther Scrub Season."

If you've read the book of Esther, you know that before she ever stepped into her calling as queen, she spent a year being prepared. A full year of treatments, cleansing, refining, and waiting.

A year.

No crown.

No palace.

No platform.

Just preparation.

I think many of us want the assignment, but God is often more interested in the preparation.

And preparation can feel a lot like being toast in progress.

The heat isn't always comfortable.

The waiting isn't always fun.

The uncertainty isn't always welcome.

But something is happening.

The bread doesn't turn itself into toast. It simply yields to the process.

That's the word God gave me for this year:

Yield.

Not strive.

Not push.

Not figure it all out.

Yield.

Looking back, I can see that God used that season to scrub away things I didn't even know I was carrying.

I had spent years helping people encounter God. Then God removed me from the place where I was doing that and invited me to encounter Him myself.

Identity tied to a role.

The need to know what was next.

The comfort of familiar relationships.

The illusion of control.

He wasn't punishing me.

He was preparing me.

And somewhere in the middle of that year, something unexpected happened.

I stopped chasing what was next and started enjoying who was with me now.

What emerged wasn't a new position.

It wasn't a perfect plan.

It wasn't even clarity about the future.

It was intimacy.

A deeper intimacy with God than I had ever experienced before.

What does that intimacy look like?

Honestly, I'm still discovering it.

It looks like longer conversations with Him and fewer presentations from me.

It looks like silence that no longer feels empty.

It looks like trusting when I don't have answers.

It looks like being less concerned with where I'm going and more concerned with walking closely with the One leading me.

It's harder to explain than it is to experience.

But I know this:

If someone had offered me a shortcut around the toaster, I would have taken it.

And I would have missed what God wanted to do in me.

The miracle wasn't when the toast popped up.

The miracle was what happened while it was hidden.

Maybe you're in a toaster season right now.

Maybe you're in your Esther scrub.

Maybe you're wondering why God seems more interested in preparation than promotion.

Take heart.

The hidden season is not a wasted season.

God does some of His best work where no one else can see.

And if you're willing to yield, you may discover what I did:

The greatest gift waiting on the other side isn't a new assignment.

It's a deeper intimacy with God.

The best conversations rarely end with the last paragraph.

Every journey is different, but none of us walk alone.

Pull up a chair around the fire and join fellow travelers for reflection, encouragement, and meaningful conversation.