So, I had a bit of a scare the other day. All this week and next, I am house-sitting for a family from church with two dogs, a cat, and a four-wheeler. Dangerous, I know. They live in an almost mansion of a house out in the country with a winding driveway, a pond, and lots of trees. They also have one of those walk-in refrigerator/freezer units that you see in restaurant kitchens. Well, since I’ve got the house all to myself, I also have the unique joy – experience, rather – of cooking for myself. If you’ve never tried it, you’re welcome over anytime.
Two nights ago, I wanted stir-fry. It had to be stir-fry. So, I happily slipped on a pair of lime green flip-flops and went out to the garage. That’s where the refrigerator/freezer is. I stepped into the refrigerator, hearing the door suction-cup shut behind me and then opened the door into the freezer, noting as I entered that the thermometer read 1.5 degrees. Cool. The frozen pack of stir-fry vegetables was against the far wall, and as I reached for it, the door closed behind me. Without a care in the world, I grabbed my precious cargo of iced-over food and went to the door. For a handle, it had a round button about the size of my palm, and you were supposed to push on this, and the door would open. Well, I pushed. And nothing happened. Hm. That’s weird. I pushed again, a little harder this time. Still nothing.
Several pushs and a rather useless shoulder-ramming-steel-object later, I was beginning to get a little worried. Random, really not at all comforting thoughts began to fly with all the cheer of kamikaze pilots through my mind. When was my next appointment with someone else of the human race? Twenty-four hours? Longer? How long can a tank-top, shorted, flip-flop wearing human survive in 1.5 degree weather? Can a dog outside hear you scream from inside a walk-in freezer? Not that that would really do any good. Does a cell phone get reception through two steel doors? And if so, why, oh, why hadn’t I brought my phone in here with me?
But during this time, I had by no means been idle. While my brain was preoccupied with the kamikazes, my hands were busy with that stubborn little doorknob. Twisting and turning and pulling and doing all sorts of things that far exceeded the instruction of that one simple push. Well, since I’m writing this now, you know I got out okay. And actually, I wasn’t even in there for all that long. Under a minute, for sure, though it seemed more like hours. I still don’t know quite what happened. Maybe the door was just jammed. Maybe it really was accidentally locked, and God did a miracle. Maybe I just didn’t push quite right the first few times. But suddenly, the freezer door was open, and I was free from my cold little cell.
Talking to my friend later about the incident, I heard something profound. Simple, but definitely profound. “Well, God obviously has a purpose for you on earth still.” Hm. Isn’t that true? Staring into the face of death has this funny way of putting life into perspective. Uncomplicated, uncluttered, true perspective. I have a purpose. God has me alive right here, right now, because I have a purpose.
I have never in all my life been more grateful for cooked vegetables.
