The Wi-Fi Password on the Fridge

In 2019, a family in Portland, Oregon, began hosting Sunday dinners for Afghan refugees resettling in their neighborhood. The Ahmadi family — parents and three children — arrived with almost nothing. Their American hosts, the Petersons, did something small but profound: they wrote their Wi-Fi password on a card and stuck it to the fridge. "This house is your house," they said. "Everything we have is open to you."

That password unlocked more than internet access. It connected the Ahmadi children to language-learning apps, helped their father find work, and let their mother video-call relatives still overseas. One simple act of sharing — not hoarding — transformed a stranger's household into a place of belonging.

The Psalmist marvels at this same kind of extravagant openness from the Almighty. God strengthens the gates of His city, blesses the children within, and fills the land with the finest wheat. He sends His word racing across the earth. And then the stunning declaration: "He has revealed His word to Jacob, His laws and decrees to Israel. He has done this for no other nation."

The Most High did not hoard His wisdom. He wrote the password on the fridge. He opened His household to a people and said, "Everything I have is yours — My word, My statutes, My peace." The question the Psalm leaves us with is whether we recognize the staggering privilege of being invited inside.