Being in quarantine has afforded me some beautiful moments. One afternoon, my mother and I sat and chatted at the kitchen table. We cackled as I recounted the story of a time I ran away from home. I know this can be a serious matter for some people but, that wasn’t the case with me. Although, at the time it felt serious and I was adamant about my cause. Just a little background; when I was a child, I hated vegetables. Without fail, night after night, I was made to eat them. But this day, I had had enough!
With child-like boldness (because I was a child) I confronted my mother about the night’s menu. The way I remember it, we were set to be served broccoli, one of the ultimate, most disgusting vegetables on the planet that I love today. I expressed to my mother that I did not want broccoli. In fact, I probably reminded her that I didn’t like vegetable at all and that I was putting my foot down. I refused to eat them. In true “Mother” fashion, as cool as a cucumber, she responded that it was fine, and I didn’t have to eat anything.
The conversation escalated to a place I didn’t plan. Keeping my tone in a place that prevented me from being strangled I said, “I’m running away!” To which my mother responded, “Go ahead”. Flabbergasted, I rushed to my room, determined to stand my ground, and I packed my bag. Yes I did! As I stuffed my undershirts and colorful little panties into my purple Minnie & Mickey locker backpack (evidently all I needed were undergarments), I mumbled under my breath how unfair it was to be made to eat vegetables.
As I made my way to the front door, my mother met me there with something to say. Had I convinced her? Surely, she didn’t want me out in the big, dangerous world to fend for myself. Ready to receive my apology, I awaited her words with anticipation. My mother opened her mouth to speak, she said, “Don’t forget that you can’t cross the street by yourself.” I was crushed because she was right, I couldn’t. After a slow stroll around the block I returned home, defeated. And there my mother was, waiting for me in the doorway.
In this story God spoke to me. He showed me that He is all-together nourishing! Our parents, like God, do things such as, make us eat vegetables even when we don’t want to because, it’s good for us. How many times have we let the nourishment of God run us away from His house or protest His standards? What we must know about God the Father is that He is good. He desires good for us. It is the nutrition of His word that allows us to grow in faith and in the knowledge of Jesus. It may not always taste good but, it is indeed good for us.
(…sits at table. Eats vegetables.)