Cellophane.

There are only a few different kinds of foods that I am crazy about eating the leftovers. Taco roast leftovers and almost anything Italian make the grade for sure. I will consume those precious goodies like I was a raving madman. That, and almost any dessert, my sweet tooth is legendary among my family. My maternal grandma used to tell me to "eat my dessert first just in case the dinner killed you" and I, not wanting to disappoint Nea, took that advice to heart.

Even worse than eating our own leftovers is taking home other peoples leftovers and eating them. Most of the time they wait a couple of weeks in the chilly death row dungeon of our refrigerator and then are mercilessly ground into smithereens and ran roughshod down the drain, the only remnant remains on the cellophane that is crumpled up in the trash.

I wonder how many of us, when approaching God, are “feasting” on the leftovers, merely licking the residue off of the cellophane rather than pulling up a place at the table and dining with the King? Yes, you certainly can get nourishment from the tiny vestige on the cellophane, but you could have a full blown six-course meal at the table of the King of Kings!

Why do we settle for such as this? Why do we rely on others to tell us of there intimacies with Jesus, when we long for that kind of love? That love, like any, must be engaged on purpose. Must be sought out by you and me. It needs to be our relationship with God, our experience with the King and not simply licked off of someone else's old cellophane.

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” Revelation 3:20