Macaroni and Cheese, Dimples, and the Beautiful Body of Christ

About this time of year in 2012, I found myself in the midst of possibly the most horrific week of my life. It's a pretty long story, but I'll skip a lot. The short version is that my (at the time) 3-year-old niece contracted a Staph Scalding infection, which literally burned off about 75% of her skin--really all of her core, sparing just some of her face and parts of her arms and legs. Sadly, that is no exaggeration at all. Below is a sketch by the nurses who dressed her wounds including blue shading of all the "burned" areas of her body. (The front of her body was just as bad or worse.)

I still get sick to my stomach every time I see that picture and imagine the pain that baby was feeling. It was almost too much for *me* to bear watching. How in the world could that little 3-year-old bear the actual pain of it? Excruciating. And knowing how *I* felt, then imagining what her Mom (my sister) must have been feeling... I mean... no words. Never before had I felt so utterly worthless and helpless. I had nothing to offer. No way to give relief. No way to help ease pain or give rest. No answers. No nothing. 

But I couldn't do nothing.

So I prayed. And I prayed. And I prayed and prayed and prayed. And then when I ran out of words and tried to sleep (which I honestly don't think I did at all that week), I just sighed and groaned and cried the kinds of prayers that only God could understand.

And while I know in my heart that is always the best thing to do in these situations, it still never feels like enough, does it? I wonder if you can guess where this is going. What do we tend to do when people are facing suffering/tragedy/loss? We bring food, right?

Yes. Food. Why? Well... I think lots of reasons, but here are my favorite three:

1. Regardless of what else is happening in the lives of our loved ones, we know that they will always, always need food. In this situation, not only did my sister Jody need someone to remind her (and sometimes force her) to eat so that she wouldn't end up in a bed right next to her daughter, she also had the rest of her family at home needing to eat. 

2. Food is something we understand and know how to handle. Rarely do I ever know exactly the right thing to say or do in the midst of tragedy. No matter how much "practice" I get, I just don't think I'll ever be good at it. But I know how to prepare a meal and let it nourish someone in ways words never could anyway. 

3. Food creates a reason for presence. I've learned that many people have trouble showing up at the home of a friend empty-handed. Dropping by just to "check on" someone doesn't seem to be a common practice. But food creates intentionality. Most of us have no trouble at all stopping by a friend's house to drop off food. And let's face it, that is rarely a 30-second interaction. Hopefully, it leads to conversation and a great big hug.

So. In my helplessness, I thought I could at least start bringing food and organizing others to bring food. But we'll come back to all of that in a minute...

Right now, I'm thrilled to report that the Lord worked nothing short of a miracle in the life of my baby niece during that week. She was miserably, gut-wrenchingly sick and in pain for about 3 days, during which we honestly thought we might even lose her. (I'm so grateful that the Lord helps us forget physical pain so quickly.) But she went from this:

to this:

in a matter of 3 days. Which still seems impossible. By earthly standards, I think it is. I will always believe this to be a medical miracle, the Lord responding to the cries of his people. We had people praying for that baby all over the world, and I believe with all of my heart that God used those prayers to save her life.

And the first thing she wanted when she woke up hungry was Macaroni and Cheese! And as soon as she got it, her dimples showed up. Biggest smile ever. Thank you, Jesus!

In the days and weeks that followed, I watched my church family and community care for my sister and her family in ways that were nothing short of overwhelming. They brought meals, they did chores, they set up fund raisers to help cover medical bills. It was non-stop, self-sacrificial and completely over the top (in the best way possible.)

And I suspect my sister doesn't specifically remember any of the food she ate during that time (although I bet there was an awful lot of mac and cheese once everyone knew it was Dylan's favorite :-D), but I guarantee she will never forget the love that was poured out on her and her family during their time of need.

So. PLEASE. Use food as an excuse to be present in people's lives. But you don't have to wait for tragedy. Just find a busy young Mom who is exhausted and bring over dinner so she can sit still for a few minutes. Or find an elderly couple and treat them to a night off from cooking and washing dishes. Everyone needs food every single day. Meet that need any time you can. Even if it's just an extra cup of coffee for a coworker having a rough day. You might be surprised what it does for your relationships.

Edible Love Letters

Have you ever breathed in a symphony of aromas from someone's kitchen or beheld a plate of food so beautiful you almost didn't want to eat it? Ever savored such a carefully crafted bite of flavor that you never wanted the meal to end?

More specifically (and importantly), have you ever been served a meal and knew with no explanation beyond the meal itself that its creator loved you?

I hope so. Because I think that's how meals were meant to be be experienced. Maybe not every single meal of our lives, but most of them.

And if you've experienced any of the things mentioned above, chances are it's because the person creating that meal for you did so as an act of love. Spice combinations chosen as carefully as notes on a scale. Beautiful sear of fish created as delicately and precisely as the stroke of a brush against canvas. Every action designed to stir up affections and cause delight.

At least that's how it works for me.

I will never compose music that stirs your soul or create a painting or sculpture that brings a tear to your eye. I might write a few letters that make people smile, but none of them will be studied 100 years from now for their lyrical prose or brilliantly crafted turns of phrase. I am not an artist in any of those ways.

But I can pay attention to the people I love and learn their preferences. I can notice the way someone's eyes light up when they see certain ingredients in front of them. Or the way a precious friend instantly relaxes when she sees that I have her favorite tea in my pantry and hears the kettle whistle. Or maybe my favorite-- the delighted reaction I get to witness when I somehow rebuild a memory on a plate. So much fun!

Not just meals. Not just calories to use for fuel. Not even just enjoyable flavors. Food that says, "I notice. I'm paying attention. I care about you. I want you at my table. I love you."

Edible love letters.

Can Savoring our Food be an act of Worship?

I sure hope so! Let's work through this together and see if you agree.

My favorite definition of savor is "to give oneself to the enjoyment of." I love that. A lot.

But are we really supposed to do that? Give ourselves to the enjoyment of food? Well... I think yes, but before you get mad and label me a glutton or hedonist, let me explain. By no means am I suggesting that we are to worship the food itself, nor to over-indulge in food or obsess about it. The food itself deserves none of those forms or levels of attention.

But now let's consider the Creator of food. Why do you suppose He gave us such a gorgeously diverse menu to choose from when we feed ourselves? Couldn't He have fed us simple manna every day? Or maybe even more boring, couldn't He have designed our bodies to be fueled by simply swallowing a super-mega vitamin daily? I'll answer that. Yep. He most definitely could have. He's God. He can do whatever He wants. Which means...

He must have wanted us to have a delightful sensory adventure every time we eat. Why else would He create so many colors and textures and smells and flavors? Consider the boundless variety of sensory experiences available to us through food. The colors we see, the aromas we smell, the textures we feel, the sizzles we hear, and OH the flavors we taste!

Why would He do that? I think there are many reasons we could talk about which would all be true, but for the sake of this brief discussion, let's focus on this-- He loves His children. (That's us.) He delights in our enjoyment of His gifts to us. Any and all of His gifts, including food. So can we worship (offer adoring reverence or regard to) God when we bite into a perfectly ripe, lusciously fragrant, sweet and juicy strawberry, remembering who created it for our enjoyment? Or when we smell and taste that first sip of coffee in the morning? What about when we hear bacon sizzling in a pan on that rare Saturday morning we have nothing on our calendar? Yes, I think we can. But more than that, I think we should. 

Eating To Make God Happy

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. --I Corinthians 10:31

What do you suppose it might look like to eat or drink to the glory of God? We're commanded to do so right there in Scripture, so it seems like a concept worth figuring out. Could it be that God designed food to do so much more than fuel our bodies? Could it be that maybe He wants us to actually enjoy food? Let's break this down a bit:

One definition of the word glory is "adoring praise or worshipful thanksgiving; a state of absolute happiness, gratification, contentment."

Simply put, if we eat and drink, we're to do it as an act of adoring praise or worshipful thanksgiving to God. 

Or, if you prefer, let's look at that second phrase, that stuff about "absolute happiness." At first glance, what I'd love to do is apply that to me and say that as long as I am absolutely happy and content while I'm eating, I'm in full obedience. I so wish that's what that meant! Bring me all of the chocolate, some crispy bacon, and a loaf of rosemary bread with every meal. The Bible says! I'm soooo happy and super content!

Unfortunately, and contrary to my hearty appetite, I don't think that's what it means at all. Let's look at it again, guided by the biblical text: "...to the glory (absolute happiness) of God." Ohhh. Not my absolute happiness. God's. Ok.

How do I eat and drink in such a way that makes God happy?

I think we start by going back to that first definition. With "adoring praise or worshipful thanksgiving." Grateful to God for the gift of food and the ways he so lavishly provides so much of it in such creative ways. (Eventually I want to explore that entire topic in much greater detail, but that's a discussion for a different day.) For now, let's stay with this idea.

So we're eating and drinking thankfully and worshipfully, grateful to God for his provision. How might we make God happy with the way(s) we eat? What makes God happy? Our obedience, right? Our hearts. Our desire to honor him. Part of that is certainly expressing our thanksgiving to Him for the good gifts He gives us, but I think we should carry that a step further as well to consider his commands about how we care for our bodies, His temple. 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 says, "...do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body."

Ok. So if we are to make God happy with the way we eat and drink, smart decisions about what we eat and drink certainly play an important role. We are commanded to take care of our bodies as temples that don't even belong to us. That's something to consider.

If we combine those thoughts, we land pretty much right in the middle of a broad spectrum of approaches to food. On one end, joyless consumption of only the most essential nutrients to keep our bodies fueled. On the other end, gleefully gluttonous indulgence. Somewhere in the middle lies obedient and responsible but joyful consumption of delicious foods that are useful to our bodies and help us care for them in ways that please God. I think that can look just a little bit different for everyone, but we should all land somewhere in that middle ground, where we are worshiping God through our choices and enjoying them to His glory.

What particular ways do you eat and drink to the glory of God?

Keeping Special

special: distinguished or different from what is ordinary or usual

For no particular reason, I've been thinking about this word quite a bit lately. Ironically, I find myself lurking on either end of a broad spectrum of thoughts as to why it seems as though it has lost a great deal of its meaning in current society. Certainly, it doesn't tend to carry the weight that I'm guessing it did at some point. I can't quite decide if this is because it's vastly overused (everything is special; therefore nothing is special) or if it's because we're so demanding these days that no one sees anything as special.

By definition, "special" is not something we experience every day. Maybe not even every week. Yet many of us desire and crave it so much that we chase after it daily. We may not use that exact term, but we work hard to build "special" right into our daily lives. We look for new recipes to create that perfectly out of the ordinary meal. Or better yet for some, we look for new restaurants to create those meals for us. We buy better technology so that our media experiences exceed all "normal" forms of family home entertainment. We design our bathrooms to feel like spas every single day. (Not gonna lie--I'm totally gonna try to do this if we ever build.) The list could go on and on. When we experience something special, we naturally want to re-create that experience as often as possible. And from my perspective, there is really nothing wrong with that as long as we understand the implications.

The challenge is understanding how we impact these experiences by attempting to re-create them often. Going back to the definition, if we begin to experience something regularly--if it becomes our "usual"--it is then no longer special, but ordinary. And now we must exceed our ordinary to find a new special. If we're not careful, this can become an exhausting (and not at all fulfilling) endeavor.

I suppose we would land all over the place with a million interpretations of special and a billion different opinions of how much of it should be incorporated into daily life. I'm not sure there is a right or wrong answer or an established standard we should all follow. What I am suggesting, however, is that while improving or enhancing our ordinary, we should also be deliberate about preserving and protecting our special. 

Something magical happens when I get to see my family's faces light up as we experience something uncommon and memorable together.

Conversely, something deadening happens when I see them react with boredom or indifference to something that should be a wonderful treat.

In either event, I wonder how much I have conditioned them toward one reaction or the other through the overall design of our lifestyle. Certainly, any of us could err on either side of the spectrum. Always boring and mundane with nothing special to look forward to can deaden our sense of joy and expectation, but constant stimulation and excessiveness can have the same impact by leaving us always searching for the next perfect experience. Somewhere in the middle lies that "normal" existence that allows us daily fulfillment and occasional momentous indulgence. That's the land I'm striving to live in (but it's easier said than done sometimes.)

Why "The Good List"?

Why "The Good List"?

**Just for the sake of clarity, I originally wrote this post back in 2013, so some of the time references aren't accurate, but changing them seemed inauthentic and not important to the purpose of sharing this, so I'm leaving them as is.**

Many have asked me this question, and I'm pretty sure I've answered it a little differently each time -- all honest answers, but this process has taken on new meanings throughout the years.

I first started these lists about 8 or 9 years ago in the midst of a very dark season of my life, the details of which are no longer important. What *is* important is that Jesus rescued me. What he did not do immediately, however, was to remove me from some of the difficult situations I was facing each day. Storms raged on pretty much daily (or at least every "work" day), and God didn't seem much interested in calming any of them. . . except for the one within me. Which -- let's be honest here -- was every bit as much a miracle as walking on water. 

Clearly I was incapable of changing my own heart and mind. I had tried for years to no avail. And I'm not sure even now that I can pinpoint *exactly* what changed or why except to say that Christ intervened. Powerfully. I had wallowed in self-pitying-why-me-this-is-so-unfair-how-can-they-keep-getting-away-with-treating-me-this-way garbage for so long that entitlement mentality had attached itself to me as securely as my very skin. I went nowhere without it. To be clear, it is still my very firm opinion that I *was* being mistreated and sinned against all those years ago, but the magnifying glass I held to the sins against me was firmly and exclusively fixed on just that. Sins against me. I had no vision of anything else. Not my own sins and the grace Christ had so freely lavished upon me in spite of them. Not the blessings I enjoyed every single day. Not the hope I had in eternity. 

Until. . .

Jesus. OH! JESUS! All I can say is that he crashed into me and changed the subject. Again -- not the circumstances. They remained the same for several years following this awakening in me, but my perspective changed dramatically. Mostly. Hence "The Good List". Practicing thankfulness. Opening my eyes to blessings that had never been absent from my life, only ignored. Changing my focus from, "Why me? Why do I continue to deal with this? So unfair!" to "Why not me? Why didn't I wake up with cancer this morning? Praise God!" Imperfectly, for sure, but deliberately. I decided that it would be my goal to actively seek and identify blessings every single day. One for each week day and 2 each on Saturday and Sunday. These could be as silly and small as a really good meal or something that made me giggle. (Or Nutella. I decided it would be fair to list Nutella every week if necessary. ;-)) That made a list of 9. Number 10 would be something a bit more significant. An exquisite passage of Scripture that had spoken to me recently. A truth that God was revealing to me. A story of redemption. Something along those lines. A list of 10 each week. After several years, I've listed a few thousand by now, but the more I list, the more I realize I could never stop writing (or typing as it were), and I still wouldn't cover the tiniest fraction of blessings. That's ok. It's not a test to complete. It's a never-ending exercise in thankfulness.

And after 8 or 9 years of doing this, today my answer to the above question is this:

Why "The Good List"?

For such a time as this.

Because just in the last 2-3 weeks. . .

. . . I listened as Jared read Scripture to our friend Richard, whose brain cancer appears to be in its final stages. He paused occasionally to explain, not because Richard isn't smart, but because. . . .  well, brain cancer. Taking over. I love that Richard closed his eyes during the parts that talked about eternal life with Christ. Never *really* dying. A whole, holy, healthy body forever. Glorious. Meanwhile, Judah, who is 3, said to us, "My Dad talks weird." My flesh raged (UNFAIR!!!), and my heart plummeted. Help him, Jesus!

. . . I visited a beautiful, precious friend in the hospital the day before and then again the day after doctors removed a golf-ball sized tumor from her brain. She still awaits the full pathology report, but the word "aggressive" haunts me. Help her, Jesus!

. . . I dialogued with a friend who began experiencing fainting spells several weeks ago at the exact same time her husband fell from a ladder and shattered his leg. They have been recovering, only to face recent repeat ER visits with her Dad over the last couple weeks with bleeding in his brain. Doctors tried, but their treatments were not as effective as they hoped. His final earthly breath happened late Tuesday night. They are weary. Help them, Jesus!

The list continues. Illness, depression, broken relationships, wayward children, financial stress, difficult job situations. It's a long list. All within a very small community. 

These days have been hard. Scary. Exhausting. Confusing. Frustrating. Demanding.

I might as well admit I'm not waking up with a song in my heart or a dance in my pants as often as I sometimes do. My heart isn't light. What to do with this mess? Where could I go but to Jesus? And why? Because my natural setting is to "look on the bright side", be cheerful, and trust that everything will be fine if I just "let go, and let God"?

Oh my, no. Quite the opposite, actually. Because I'm weak and weary and worn and mostly pretty worthless in regard to my impact on any of these situations. But I've practiced recognizing God's blessings. I've rehearsed gratitude for his never failing goodnesses to me. I've searched for and listed (just a few) of the endless ways he loves me. And I have just enough "muscle memory" at this exercise to send me fleeing to the cross when trouble comes. Because I remember. My stubborn heart of flesh is being slowly conditioned to know how to respond to suffering. With gratitude. Gratitude for the days and weeks and sometimes months at a time when the suffering isn't so prevalent. Even gratitude for understanding the many ways Christ works through suffering. But by no means does this come naturally. It takes practice. Exercise. Consistent, deliberate work. Repetition.

So why "The Good List"?

So I'll remember.

Because where else could I go to find hope and peace and comfort? Only to Jesus. There is no true good but HIM.

Healthy from Within

Before I get into this, I should state my disclaimer that I am no expert whatsoever on health or working out or anything along those lines (or really anything at all for that matter ;-)), so feel free to ignore and roll your eyes at any portion of this you disagree with. I'm mostly just "thinkin' out loud."

Several years ago I had an epiphany of sorts, which I'm sure had a lot more to do with the Gospel than with my ability to actually figure this out on my own. Since I grew up on the chubby side for most of my childhood, I spent many years insanely jealous of people who didn't struggle with that particular issue. It just "wasn't fair" that they could eat whatever they wanted and then lay around and do nothing and never gain any weight. No fair! No Fair! NO FAIR!

But what I came to realize as an adult is that this reality led me to get a handle on my health pretty early in life. This is not to say that I'm a health nut or obsessive about workouts or anything like that. I'm not. I don't treat my body like a science experiment or work out 20 hours a week. Nor do I starve myself. (Never gonna happen. I love food way too much.) But I do try to take care of myself, because my body is a constant reminder that I need to. To explain: I'm not necessarily proud of this, but I'm almost certain that if I were naturally thin, I would eat carbs, bacon and chocolate all day every day. Literally. Also, I'm pretty sure working out wouldn't be a super high priority. And in that scenario, even if I had the genes that might allow me to stay thin, that certainly doesn't mean I would be healthy with that kind of behavior.

This is why I've learned to be grateful for the way God made me. He knows my tendencies, so I can't help but see this body as an act of love from Him. He gave me a very physical reminder that if I don't take care of myself, bad things will happen. I know this is true for everyone, and certainly thin people can have just as many hidden health concerns as people who are carrying extra weight, but I think inner health might be much less present in my mind if my jeans never got a little snug. This has helped me learn how to use food to help my body function so much better than it would if it were thin and full of junk food. What's inside our bodies and out of sight needs attention no matter what we look like on the outside. We need to drink water to protect our kidneys, do cardio work to keep our hearts in good shape, eat lean proteins to keep our muscles strong, etc. If I were effortlessly thin, I fear that I would ignore this truth.

And this is how my constantly multi-tasking (or some might say scattered) brain works--- As I was thinking through this whole situation, it made me wonder if many of us don't treat our spiritual lives similarly. What I mean is, many of us don't necessarily have glaringly obvious sins hanging off of us as soon as we wake up in the morning. We might look pretty "thin" and healthy to an outsider. We're not itching to go murder someone. We don't struggle with an overt addiction. We're not screaming profanities at our parents or breaking into a neighbor's house or neighborhood store to steal what isn't ours. And since it seems like everything is pretty much "fine" for the most part, maybe we don't see an immediate need to exercise our faith, by which I mean pray, dig into scripture, read helpful literature, dialog with other believers, etc. 

So dangerous. Because even if there is no physical evidence of our spiritual sickness, we all need to give attention to what's inside our hearts.

We all struggle with hidden sins. The Bible tells us so. We all entertain thoughts that aren't pleasing to Christ. We all toy with temptations sometimes far longer than we should. We all struggle to genuinely exercise the fruits of the spirit. Many of us can put on a pretty good act for our viewers, but our insidest insides can be fatally diseased even while we smile and "be nice" to everyone and maybe even talk about Jesus. This is no more healthy than a thin person with blocked arteries, blackened lungs, or inflamed kidneys. It is a certain path to death.

Spiritual exercise and healthy consumption of Scripture is critical to spiritual health just as physical exercise and healthy eating/drinking is critical to physical health. Certainly the routine and specific behavior can vary greatly from person to person, but it shouldn't be altogether absent if we expect to be healthy. It takes work on a regular basis. Not a couple times in January each year. ;-) But all year long every year.