Refrigerator Full of Groceries and Overflowing with God’s Love

Yesterday, I tackled the task of grocery shopping. After one year of marriage, I decided to wear tennis shoes to pivot, turn, and walk down the yard lines of the supermarket. I could somewhat hear a faint “thank you” coming from my feet. Why do I still jump from aisle to aisle? Why not use “grocery pick up” or “grocery delivery? Well, I like to scour the shelves for the freshest fruit and ripest vegetables. I like to ponder dinners I want to make for me and my husband. I want to envision the food art that will become from the ingredients.

Ah, the chore of grocery shopping can be tiring. I always tell the cashier, “You need a second person to help load and unload the basket.” It’s a workout routine of lift, bend, put up, and put in! “A Tisket a Tasket”...push the basket. Grab, hold, brr! the frozen food aisle is cold. I strolled up and down the aisles as my basket wheels squeakily sang. Then, I saw the finish line...the checkout. At last! I completed the conquest.

Even though grocery shopping is not one of my favorite errands, I am beyond thankful to see a cart overflowing with nutritional bounty. No, not junk food, but body and heart healthy meals. Yesterday, when I was finished organizing and fitting all the grocery items into the refrigerator, I thought, “We are abounding in blessings.” I looked upon my coffee mug under the refrigerator light...

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. - 1 Corinthians 13:13

God’s love provides groceries.

God’s love provides warmth from a fireplace.

God’s love provides shingled shelter.

God’s love has clothed us in cotton.

God’s love has shod our soles.

God’s love has given us loved ones.

When I look in my refrigerator I know God will never leave or forsake me. He’ll never abandon His children.

God’s love will never fail.

Comments

Pine Heart Roots

On a Friday afternoon, I packed the car and my mom and I drove down Sea Blue Lane. Our destination was Pine Prairie, Louisiana. Wheels rolled down blacktop while music notes rocked and rolled through the Malibu. We sped through Lafayette and entered “Country Land”. As I passed by horses, my eyes lit up with little girl joy, as usual. Cows grazed as clouds speckled their backs. The bayous were fading behind us as pine trees started to grow in their place. The scenery was refreshing, renewing our minds with fresh crawfish waters. We finally arrived at my cousin, Dana’s house and parked upon O’Banion territory. I needed to strip my bark of “stress needles” and regrow peace around my “pine heart”. I was feeling distant from my dad. Year after year, the roughness I once felt on his hand was smoothing. He is branded in my heart, but I needed that brand to be lit under fire ...

Country Bound

Country Bound I travel down a mellow, yellow sunflower road upon miniscule “wishing” pebbles. A monument stands tall amiss sprightly wildflowers. Rustic, red barn, tell me your wisdom, tell me your stories. A split rail fence is my guide, built by thick, rough hands. It dances to a patterned rhythm around a charming, pastel blue farmhouse. I am country bound, my soul to be found. I pass by a field flowing with radiant corn. Stalks stand tall, presiding over misty pastures. Golden wheat is nuzzled with sunny rays. It waltzes with the wind and tangos with blades of grass. Hearts of farmers beat in rolling hills, growing “love soy seeds”. An apple pie sits on a crackled window sill cooling for attention. Cinnamon swirls through a two-story house. Maple beans, sweet greens, and cornbread overflow the Amish-built table. Greens pop into savoring mouths. Sugary beans candy-coat t...

Silver Knight

Little boys and little girls around the world can be heard calling for, "Daddy, father, dad!" I must of uttered dad a hundred times a day. “Dad, can you help me with a math problem?", “Dad, can you fix this and fix that?", “Dad! There's a spider in my room!" Dads' are the heads of the household. They are spiritual leaders and advice givers. They are comforters and protectors of clans throughout different villages. My dad was the king of our Irish clan. He was a good ole' southern gentleman, so he always slipped a "hun” in his statements. He was a wonderful Christian man, always giving glory to God. He was a sound and stable oak, never bent or shaken. Fear? He did not know fear. The only fear that was fashioned in his heart, was the fear of God. My dad stood his manly ground each day, battling earthly forces. My dad was always a detail and knowledge encyclopedia. Many times he would give me advice on how to save money (I was a...

Search This Blog