
And this week, God used cheese to talk to me. On Monday night, I put Photobaby to bed and got ready to make myself some delicious fajitas. I sautéed the peppers and onions and then added the chicken. As it cooked, I opened the fridge to get the rest of my ingredients – tortillas, cheese, sour cream. But the cheese was missing.
Someone had taken my cheese.
Well, not someone. Mark had taken my cheese. In fact, he’d taken the whole bag of shredded cheese to work to eat with his leftover taco meat. The whole bag. Didn’t put his portion in a Ziploc. No, he took the whole bag.
This has happened before (not always with cheese – once, the whole bottle of ketchup was missing when I needed it). And I’ve asked him not to do it. So, being the good, loving wife I am, I picked up the phone and when he answered, I said, “Did you take the cheese?” When he quietly said yes, I said, “Just checking.”
And then – rudely – hung up the phone.
Just like that. *sigh* Why can I not control my temper? I mean, come on, Photo! It was just cheese. Now, I will say that as a big cheese lover, nothing is ever really “just cheese.” But in this case, I probably could have let it go. Probably.
I was reminded of this when I snagged a piece of chicken from my fajita fixings…and promptly burned the heck out of my tongue. I’m not sure what I expected, taking a piece of food directly from the skillet and placing it in my mouth. But what I got was a sore tongue and a reminder of how to use that tongue!
As David said (in Psalm 39:1), I need a muzzle: I said, "I will watch my ways and keep my tongue from sin; I will put a muzzle on my mouth as long as the wicked are in my presence."