It would be so much more efficient to not let them "help". After all, this is my kitchen and they generally make a huge mess of things. I have every right to assert my standard of peace and order, in which they always seem to complicate, but what I'm seeking is not a perfectly arranged house, or a batch of evenly shaped cookies, it's the hearts of my children. I want them to learn, to be challenged, and to enjoy my company as I delight in theirs.
Today as I winced at spilled flour, and was tempted to mutter unholy things under my breath, I was reminded of how Jesus invites me, with my messy little hands and my clumsy efforts, into his work. It humbled me once again. How often do we, as Christians, puff up our little chest and think we are doing God a favor, that somehow he NEEDS us. It's more laughable than the two year old squishing flour between her toes being convinced that she is an integral part of the baking process.
God lets me be a part of what he is doing because he is relational, and loving, and cares about the growth of his child. It is a gift to be a part of something so much bigger than myself. The more my clumsy little hands are guided by his own, the more I realize that this "kitchen" is not mine. It's his. He chooses to allow us to join him, learning to do things that we didn't think we could ever do. I am so thankful that Jesus cares more about bringing us into his presence than he does about efficiency.
It is my absolute joy that he delights in using my messy little hands.
Every day these kids preach the gospel to me as they mirror my own self absorbed, stubborn, short sighted, mess making nature....and remind me how far the Father's love is willing to go to make a wretch like me his own.