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Friday, April 22, 2011

Comfort Food

A sign in front of a favorite local restaurant beckoned with the lure of "Comfort Food."
Immediately, warm thoughts of some of my favorite foods came to mind. Delicious, home-cooked country food steaming as it is placed on the table. In my mind's eye there were heaping bowls of my grandmother's chicken and dumplings next to another bowl full of mashed potatoes with rich gravy in a familiar antique gravy boat. A plate being passed from one hand to another was stacked high with my mother's cornbread, followed by home-grown, fresh picked butterbeans and corn. Homemade biscuits hot out of the oven dripping with fresh-churned country butter made my mouth water. Dessert would be a tough choice; my other grandmother's three-layer, made-from-scratch German Chocolate cake or her equally delicious three-layer Coconut Cake. Usually, the choice would be one itty-bitty slice of each. Well, honestly now, not all that itty-bitty. But, you get the picture.

As my mind rested there for awhile reminiscing, I contemplated what made those particular dishes so comforting. Then, the view from my mind's eye panned out. There underneath all those steaming bowls and plates of food was the lace table cloth carefully laid over the beloved oak table. I saw the hands placing the hot food on the table, the same hands that spent all day preparing it. On my right the hands that passed the food to me and then to my left, the hands that took the food from mine. I looked up and all around the table. It was full of family and friends. Every leaf of the table had been called to duty from the nearby closet. There was the chaotic sound of many conversations going on at once. There was familiar laughter. The smell of all the food mingling together warm, comforting, and safe. It was home.

Comfort food.

No wonder it's so appealing. My, how we all need a little comfort now and then. Love, understanding and soothing from the cares and troubles of the world. As women, many times we are on the end of giving comfort to others. What a glorious blessing that is to be able to provide comfort to others. Think of how good that feels to them. Having a few kind words, a smile, a hug, a meal, some much needed encouragement during a time of disappointment, just being there without one single word that can change or make the situation better; but being there all the same. The comfort of our presence.

Yes, we all need comfort. What about you, dear friend? Are you weary, tired, discouraged or lonely? What is your greatest need of comfort right now? Think about it. Whisper your need. Maybe right now you can't even put it into words because your need is so great. That's okay. God knows, He's always known that eventually this is where He would find you.

On this dreary Good Friday afternoon, I am reminded of another family supper. A supper where Jesus and His disciples gathered around a table. In my mind's eye I see His hands breaking the bread, pouring the wine, gently touching the shoulder of a disciple and then lifting in prayer to His Father. Hands that in a few hours would be held by nails to a cross.
At this meal Jesus was providing comfort and preparing them for the days that were to follow. Unlike our family meals that provide nourishment and comfort for a time, this meal would be the prelude to Jesus' provision for our eternal comfort.

Once we know Him, no longer will we hunger and thirst. Our comfort needs will have been met. If you are feeling in need of comfort, go to the only one who can provide lasting comfort.
Jesus. Bow down before Him.
Remember Him.

Hanging in my dining room is a picture with these words by an unknown author but I love them and would like to share them with you.

You are invited to come and dine
               with me,
From now through all eternity
Believe in the Father, Son
          and Holy Ghost,
And dine with with Jesus as your
                 Host.
To live in Heaven eternally,
       all you must do is
               R.S.V.P.
                             

Have a blessed Easter!
Bonnie

(c) 2011 Bonnie M. Evans

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