Food for Thoughts

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It’s a rare person that doesn’t love to eat. As a kid I remember Mom ringing her big cow bell with its deep bonks to call us in from playing in the fields and woods around our home out in the country. We hated to hear it. It meant we had to stop what we were doing and run home for dinner.

But somewhere between sixth grade and college, I got turned on to food. Once the switch was thrown, the problem no longer was forcing myself to come to the dinner table but forcing myself to push away from it.

Today, for example, a group of girlfriends surprised me with a birthday luncheon that was completely unexpected. We feasted at a waterfront restaurant, after which they surprised me a second time with a gorgeous bakery-made cake and a song, “You light up my life.” The cake had my name written on it in lavender and had four layers with lemon in between each luscious one. The frosting was melt-in-your-mouth yummy, including the pastel flowers, as smooth as silk.

Despite having high cholesterol that refuses to go away, I enjoyed a great-big piece.

I love food. And I’m sure God is happy about that. He went to the trouble of making a wide variety of flavors and consistencies, all delicious and most visually attractive.

For those who like salty, he made sea salt. For those who like sweet, he made sugar cane. He created something for everyone, and most likely he smiles as we “mmmm” over tasting something good. The key is to use food as fuel for our bodies and in that process, to enjoy eating it.

The Bible frequently references food, but the most interesting mention has to do with tasting of the Lord himself! Psalm 34 invites us to taste and see that he’s good. It’s as if the smallest sample of him is all we need to be convinced that following him is a good thing.

God refers to himself as “the Word” in Scripture, and of further food interest is the many references he makes to eating his words. Hebrews compares scripture to both milk and meat, the first being Christian basics, and the second being a deeper wisdom.

Erwin Lutzer put it well when he said, “What food is to the body, the Bible is to the soul.”

From this we can conclude that reading and studying the Bible provides needed life-fuel. It offers milk to the thirsty person during a dry, wilderness experience and meat to the one needing fresh vigor and strength. The promises of the Bible are scrumptious, and its doctrine brings satisfaction as we “eat it up.”

Because I have a sweet tooth, I can’t think of anything tastier than the birthday cake and frosting I ate today. But because I’ve also grown to love God’s Word, I can also smack my lips over Psalm 119:103: “How sweet your words taste to me; they are sweeter than honey.”

And that sweet treat doesn’t even require a trip to the bakery!

”Your words were found and I ate them, and your words became for me a joy and the delight of my heart; for I have been called by your name, O Lord God of hosts.” (Jeremiah 15:16)

Get to give.

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Growing up, I couldn’t have asked for more. I was wanted and welcomed into my family and have no excuses for the bad stuff I’ve done, no one to blame for my mistakes.

Being born as the second girl, I once pressed Dad to tell me the truth. “Were you disappointed I wasn’t a boy?”

When he paused before answering I said, “So… you were.”

“Only for 60 seconds,” he said. And I took him at his word.

That was the undercurrent of our father-daughter relationship. Although he was generally pleased with me, when I disappointed him, it lasted only about 60 seconds. I never once doubted his love.

Mom was his opposite, remaining a kid at heart even at 92. She dressed in costume for every holiday, and loved playing games and practical jokes. She often told me, “You make me laugh!” Coming from a woman who never muffed a punch line, that was high praise.

Eventually I became the middle child, a great place to be. Firstborns have to lead, and babies never get out from under that label. The middle kid can bounce along beneath parental radar, no problem.

If I was asked to give a one-word summary of my childhood, it would be “secure”. I wasn’t ridiculed at home, labeled as something I wasn’t or compared to my more intelligent siblings. My friends were always welcome, even in droves, and when decisions were being made, my opinion was heard.

So?

Big deal.

Who cares?

It does matter, and here’s why. God blesses people for only one reason: to bless other people. Everything I’ve been given wasn’t/isn’t mine, including the intangibles. It all belonged and still belongs to God.

Sadly, I’ve often failed to be responsible in passing along the goodies that came to me. It wasn’t as if my folks weren’t continually modeling the giving principle. Dad would solicit our help in spreading out the charity envelopes he accumulated throughout each year, in preparation for slipping a check into each one. It seemed like a great deal of giving to me, since there were dozens of different charities represented. But I guess that’s the point he was quietly trying to make.

And Mom gave herself away in countless ways, first to other people’s children but then to neighbors, friends, strangers, the needy, the elderly. She was modeling what she hoped I would be eager to give away years hence.

My entire life ought to be about serving and giving. Because it’s not, I’m falling short. My folks sat on committees and boards, taught Sunday school, stood for Christ in the neighborhood, entertained weekly and worked hard every day.

Mom used to tell us she dreaded shaking hands with a preacher because her calloused, rough skin might injure his petal-soft palms. But Dad worked just as hard at his engineering firm, despite having soft hands. Both of them modeled valuable, virtuous habits.

Maybe there’s still time for me. Both Mom and Dad lived into their 90’s, so if I figure it out fairly soon, I might have one-third of my life to get it right.

“When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone has been entrusted with much, even more will be required.” (Luke 12:48b)

Nesting on Empty

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The beach is busy these days, summer’s last hurrah for many families. Compared to the 13 week summer we had as kids, today’s students have a raw deal having to pull on their back packs during the dog days of August. Teachers, too, surely must regret the earlier start-dates.

For me, not much will change when most of the world jumps back into making lunches, driving carpools and doing homework. Although I’ll still have two school-attending children, one will be five hours away by car, the other five hours by plane. So my nest will officially be empty, which is neither good nor bad, just factual.

Although I’ve known for years this day would come, I figured I would still have Nate when it arrived. I knew it wouldn’t feel completely empty with my partner and friend on hand to share the start of this new time of life.

Mom used to caution us during the whirlwind years of raising children when we had as many as five different schools simultaneously and five schedules to honcho. “Don’t get so busy you forget about your beloved,” she’d say. “When the kids are grown and gone, you’ll be back to where you started, just the two of you.”

Without preparation, husbands and wives can arrive at the empty nest with fear and trembling. After so many years of intense co-parenting, it can feel funny to be reduced to  two.

“Who is this guy?” she’ll say.

“What did I ever see in this woman?” he’ll say.

What does God intend for this season of couple-life? For one thing, he hopes the leave-and-cleave rule will hold up under pressure. Also, the statement, “Two are better than one” should still be considered a blessing. And putting the interests of another ahead of our own should continue to work well. But alarm bells ought to ring if a couple suddenly thinks giving up is the easiest route to take.

When one of the couples we knew would announce a break-up, especially after being married several decades, Nate would shake his head and say, “He should have stayed with the wife of his youth.”

What if a husband and wife were told, “In the spring of 2015, one of you will die.” The conversations and deeds of today would be carefully and lovingly planned. Nothing would be taken for granted. Each day would be greeted with eagerness. Quitting would be unthinkable.

Nate and I had talked about what life would be like one distant day when all the kids were up and out. We knew there would be major adjustments, but we determined to make the most of it.  The only thing we never discussed was an empty nest with just one in it.

Twelve months ago, we knew nothing of terminal cancer. Nate’s last words on the subject of the empty nest were, “We don’t know what it’ll be like, but we know we’ll be in it together.”

God had other plans, but I love Nate for remaining loyal to the wife of his youth, right up until the very end.

“Didn’t the Lord make you one with your wife? In body and spirit you are his… So guard your heart; remain loyal to the wife of your youth.” (Malachi 2:15)