I'm eating like a bachelor again. A diabetic bachelor, to be sure, but a bachelor nonetheless. More like my single days -- eating alone (mostly) and rummaging around the house to figure out what's quick and easy to fix. Nancy's off watching grandkids (teenagers) for four more days, so ...The meal quality -- and tastes thereof -- have been erratic. The morning oatmeal is consistently inconsistent. I must be the only person who can ruin microwaved oatmeal. Even the cats are avoiding the dregs I set out for them. Lunch has generally been the best meal of the day, taste-wise, as the office is set in the midst of a great restaurant district.
But the evening meals are a whole 'nother story. The past two days have reillustrated for me why "real" food is better than fast food. Monday night was -- in true single guy fashion -- a microwaved pizza. It was filling and not horrible, but rather tasteless -- in spite of my addition of ham (remember all that ham I referred to?) and lots of oregano.
Tuesday evening, I stopped at Gray's Cafeteria (where Hoosiers go to graze) and picked up some baked tilapia, macaroni and cheese, and sugar free cherry pie. Yum. Real food cooked in real ovens by real people. Tasty indeed.
Which made me think about slowing down -- spiritually that is. How often do I just grab a spiritual bit -- the equivalent of a micro-waved meal? A quick hit of scripture, a hurried prayer of out the Book of Common Prayer, etc. And how many times do I really take time -- like the good people at Gray's did on my behalf -- to prepare the tastes that I would enjoy. Looking for the ingredients that would please my spiritual palate and then putting them together with care -- and time.
I have no idea what's on tonight's menu at home. But I've decided to stop at the grocery next to the office and assemble a meal and fix it myself. And I intend to do the same with my spiritual meal, as well. To take time this evening for reading and reflection and prayer and quiet. To let God break through as I enjoy the tastes of the meal I've prepared for me -- and He's prepared for me.
-- Brent
1 comment:
Yes.
When I was in the hospital for the bone marrow transplant, and when I was finally able to keep something down other than water, which wasn't until about a week before I got out in the seven weeks I was there, they gave me cafeteria food. I wasn't able to keep it down. But when F/friends brought home made food, that made it all the way through my system, and I stopped having any digestive distress at all. Just like that. The nurses couldn't believe it. I KNOW there's something in real food made by real people by hand with love that's not in fast food or frozen food. Even when the homemade food doesn't satisfy my body or desires, it satiates my soul.
And I love the metaphor about spirituality and spiritual nurturance. We need a deep drink, with others, to get all that we need, and not these quick glances at other people's blogs.
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