The Day God Hid in a Tootsie Roll

We have a favorite party game that we have played many times throughout the years, entitled The Camouflage Game. Guests are given a list of twenty ordinary objects - a checker, a rubberband, a bobby pin, a paper clip - that are hidden around the house. The winner is the first to write down the location of every item.

There is one catch. The items are hidden in plain sight. They are camouflaged.

The toothpick is resting on top of the light switch plate. The string is on the lamp shade. The Gatorade lid is taped to the door knob. Guests are always amazed at how challenging it is to find all twenty of the small items, even though they are right in front of them, all the time.

God likes to hide in plain sight. Especially in small things.

He's there in the intricateness of spider's webs. In the call of the loon on a Minnesota lake. In the blooming saguaro cactus whose flowers last only twenty-four hours.

He hides there. In plain sight.

And one time, he hid a feast inside some fish and bread.

The story takes place in Mark 8. (You might be familiar with the story, but read on.)

A large gathering of people had followed Jesus outside of town and had listened to him speak for three days. Whatever food they brought with them was gone and everyone was hungry. Jesus decided to feed them, but there was no McDonald's handy. No Taco Bell. No Subway. Not even a neighborhood grocery store."How many loaves of bread are there," he asked."Seven."

The disciples also managed to round up a few small fish (see verse 7). Small fish. The story teller wanted the readers to know that nobody had a swordfish or a shark sitting in their lunch box, over in the grass, under a shade tree. No. The fish were small. But inside that bread and small fish, God had hidden a banquet. A miracle.

The disciples didn't see it. The crowd didn't see it.

But Jesus did.

He had hung out with his father enough to know his dad liked to wrap himself in the ordinary. To hide in plain sight.

In the beauty of a monarch's wing. In the lone cry of a wolf. In the creative genius of a snowflake.

And that day, some small fish and loaves of bread fed over 4000 people until they were satisfied. Yes, God loves to hide in the ordinary. In small mundane places.

Yesterday God hid inside a tootsie roll.

Yes, it's true. Since having radiation for melanoma on his jawline, my dad has not been able to taste any food. But yesterday, he picked up the chewy candy, twisted off the brown and white paper, and unwrapped a miracle.

My dad could taste the sweet chocolate.

"It's in the little things," my sister said when mom told us the news. I know she is right. Yesterday hope was hidden in a tootsie roll. Inside the wrapper a little happiness was waiting to be found. In the chewy goodness, God was hiding. Waiting. With a small miracle.

And as much as God likes hiding in the ordinary, there is one thing he likes even more.

God likes being found. Even in a tootsie roll.