You say potato, I say potat-OH!

It was just an ordinary weeknight evening. I started cooking dinner late—as I usually do. I pulled some chicken out of the freezer, coated it in parmesan cheese and Italian spices, and slid it into the oven.

I found some frozen peas and dropped them into a pot.

Then I saw we had a bag of fresh potatoes. Perfect.

I reached into the bag and pulled out one potato and then another. But the third potato in the bag caught my attention.

It looked like a little person—sort of like a lumpy snowman.

Maybe originally it had started as two potatoes and they grew together. Or maybe it was always one and was growing near something that helped give it its shape. I’m not a gardener, and I didn’t know it’s story. I just felt that deserved more than a hastily thrown together weeknight dinner. Or at least it deserved its moment before we ate it.

I showed it to our sons, who were as interested as I was. I set it aside and sliced the other potatoes. Then my husband came into the kitchen and admired it, too. It was the talk of the evening, this remarkable potato sitting on our kitchen counter.

Every day we encounter the new and unusual. Sometimes it’s in the larger experiences, and sometimes it’s in the smaller details. I often find it easier to find God in the little moments, the tiny ways He touches our lives. Our Father in heaven leaves a trail of love letters to each of us every day. Somehow He knew how much a funny potato would make us smile, and He made sure it was right where I would find it on a busy evening.

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