How a KitchenAid Mixer Taught Me to Trust God

Last night my husband made mashed potatoes using the KitchenAid mixer we bought with money from our wedding. He was singing its praises for the fluffy, delicious potatoes we had with dinner. Every time I use the mixer it reminds me of God’s faithfulness.

Because the stand-up mixer is expensive and is typically something couples add to their wedding registry, the longer I was single, the more often I considered just buying one for myself anyway. Why should married folks be the only ones with awesome kitchen appliances, or matching bath towels, or really good knives? Lots of people encourage singles to stop waiting for marriage to begin living their lives — your marital status isn’t who you are, and you should enjoy your life right now, right where you are. And to that I offer an enthusiastic AMEN!

I’m so thankful for the opportunities I had while I was single to pursue a significant and meaningful existence. And I did my fair share of buying nice things, because a diamond ring shouldn’t be the qualifier to having matching mixing bowls.

As a single not wanting to put my life on pause, I prioritized what was important to me: home ownership and traveling. So I bought a house and spent time and money making it feel cozy. I painted furniture, painted walls, and bought Goodwill treasures I could give new life. I was fortunate to have time and money to travel, so I was able to attend lots of out-of-state weddings. When I had a work trip to a cool city, I stayed a few days longer to explore. I found some single gals who had the same goals, and we went to Napa Valley and Mexico for vacations.

But I always stopped short of taking the plunge to shell out $400 for the KitchenAid. When I was a recent college grad, it was about the money. But the longer I was single, the mixer became an act of faith for me. It was a tangible way for me to show God that I was trusting Him with my future, that I was surrendering my desire for marriage and asking Him to use me regardless of my relationship status.

It wasn’t that I was sacrificing something costly; I mean, having to hand-mix cookie dough is not much of a sacrifice. It wasn’t about the money, but it was what the mixer represented that kept me from buying it. It was a physical, visual reminder that God is my provision. Every time I was at a friend’s house and looked longingly at the gleaming mixer on the kitchen counter, it was another opportunity to say, “God, I trust You with my deepest desire.”

I don’t know what your “God, I trust You with my singleness” thing is, but I encourage you to find something. And what I learned from my mixer is that even when God gives you what you’re trusting in Him to do, it doesn’t end there. The faith we build in trusting God with our “singleness mixer” is an act of faith that undoubtedly we will have to face again.

I think of some friends of ours who have had a hard time having a baby. No doubt God is asking them to trust Him with their future and plans for a family. Maybe their KitchenAid mixer is a onesie for the baby they don’t yet have.

I think of my high school youth pastor’s wife, who finally lost her battle with cancer after 17 years and endless rounds of remission and flare-ups. At times, they were trusting God with what was literally her last breath. Maybe their mixer was a picture of Hawaii, which was the last trip her health allowed her to take. I don’t know if they had a tangible item during those times, but I can imagine that they needed something to remind them that God had not forsaken them and would prove himself trustworthy.

So if you’ve found yourself struggling to hold on to God’s promise to be faithful to you, find your KitchenAid mixer. Offer it up to God in an act of surrender, and watch how He works.

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