I believe people can be divided into two groups: Toaster Oven Users and Toaster Users.
I love my toaster—or should I say, loved. Until it met with Songbird and the Incident Which Shall Never Be Mentioned. So, upon its unfortunate, untimely, and rather fiery demise we weighed our options until finally, Hubby had the bright idea to bring up the toaster oven from the basement. (Cue the scary music.)
It’s not that our basement is creepy; using our toaster oven just has been a rather hairy experience—ask my singed fingertips, charred English muffins, and my overheated jar of sugar I forget to remove from the top of the oven before turning it on.
Obviously, there’s a reason it was in the basement in the first place.
I can’t seem to figure out the controls, find the right setting. Is it 120 degrees and “toast,” or “light” and 100 degrees? Do I wait for it to ding or should I check it every few seconds? Should I flip my precious muffin midway, cook the bagels on the flat side, defrost the waffles first? Yes. No. Maybe. Sometimes.
Hmmm…I choose “Brave Little Toaster” for $50, Alex, a new four-slice, wide-slot orange-and-silver toaster. After all, we’ve got a double oven; I don’t need a portable oven that sits on the counter. What I need is a simple toaster, an appliance that I know how to use: turn the dial, push down the lever, wait for it to pop. Forget the fact that many of my friends just love their toaster ovens. I don’t. I live on the other side of the fence, with the Toaster Users.
But wouldn’t buying a toaster be wasteful, when I’ve got a not-so perfectly good toaster oven right here? Isn’t it best to still use it, fussing, complaining—and yes, glaring—all while it’s clicking away?
That’s debatable. The sad fact is I have a hard time letting things go. My basement-full of broken gadgets, furniture, and accessories attest to it: a blender base minus its broken glass pitcher; lamps with missing shades; shades with missing parts; stuffed animals from my childhood; VHS tapes; DVD cases; clothes I’ve “outgrown”; baby clothes I can’t part with; empty boxes and full shelves… Sure, some things can be re-purposed: the stainless steel bowls from my first KitchenAid mixer that still make the best whipped cream; our cleaned Old El Paso jars that are big enough to store homemade salad dressings; the discarded, rusty skillets that cook Brown Sugar’s mud pies.
Yet my “waste not, want not” mind hides a “forgive not, heal not” heart.
After all, it’s not just used, broken things I hold onto. I also hoard guilt, anger, resentment, bitterness, hurt feelings, sadness, mistakes, regret, pain. I stew. That’s my nature. Hubby calls me a dog with a bone, though I think “dogged determination” sounds cuter.
Either way you toast it I keep putting my hand to the plow and looking back. And that’s not fitting for this kingdom worker (Luke 9:62). “Let go, let God” doesn’t generally work for me. I’m more a “Hold on to your horses” kind of gal, even if they throw me and drag me through the dirt, dust, muck, and mire and then kick me in the face for good measure.
But that chick from Frozen has a point. I do need to let those things go that aren’t good for me, even if it hurts. Even if the changes stretch me and pull me and take me out of my comfort zone, plopping me right in the middle of dark and scary situations. I need to get rid of the junk in my spiritual cellar to make room for the treasure that God has for me. No, buying a new toaster isn’t in the budget; cleaning out my basement won’t be fun. But lo, He is with me—and if He’s going with me to the end of the age, then surely He’ll accompany me down a flight of stairs (Matthew 28:20).
Now, I’m not saying I’m crossing the fence and going to the side with the crab grass. I am a tried-and-true Toaster User. It’s just time to stop using something that doesn’t work well. I need to chuck my old, burned-out appliance; donate my nemesis, the toaster oven; and head to Target. And while I’m at it, I should stop shaking my head at Songbird and mourning over English muffins past, mulling over past insults, and thinking about “should haves” and “what ifs.” I will live as a new creation, letting go of bad habits and old hurts; I will cling every morning to those new mercies…
all while eating my perfectly toasted English muffin with its nooks and crannies (Lamentations 3:22-23, 2 Corinthians 5:17).
Another great word picture for me to apply to my life. Thanks Robin! I simply love your writing.