I know, it has been a while. I hope you'll forgive me. I've been immersed in buying a house/moving/renovating for the last couple of months, and it hasn't left me with much time to write.
However, when Preston Yancey announced his series about the intersections of faith and food, I knew I had to participate. Hospitality is a big part of our family's history, and I wanted to share a little bit about how the table affected us, so I'm over at his place today sharing "A Tale of Two Meals":
It was ten years, 2 kids, and a lifetime later, and it was a meal of considerably less fanfare than that first one. It was a simple breakfast of pancakes smothered in fruit compote and homemade whipped cream with some bacon on the side. It was their Saturday tradition.
But it was more like a sacrament.
Absurdly, he found meaning in the flour, peace in the whir of the mixer, and hope in the eyes of the two little ones as they licked fresh whipped cream off of the beaters. And every time he sat down at that table, he rediscovered another piece of the humanity he’d lost and found the presence of the God he’d cursed in that bitter darkness.I hope you'll click through to read the rest, and I hope you read some of the other wonderful stories in this series.