Dinner last night included a basket of skinny fries and a vegan burger. It was nothing fancy, take a break and enjoy comfort food kind of meal. As I indulged, I found myself musing about the food and how everything came together in a very good way. It was an experiential metaphor for the journey I find myself on. Whispers that linger on into the start of the day are many.
We live in a basket that is not of our choosing. The fries were cut, fried, and seasoned haphazardly. From the length and cut, everything indicated that several potatoes contributed to the basket. It was a great mix that illustrated a conversation earlier in the day with multiple cultures, ages, and views of the world coming together with a smile and laughter. As I look forward to a day with so many unknowns, old words remind me of the basket I will find myself in. “Since both [parties] are guests at Christ’s table, wouldn’t it be rude if they fell to criticizing what the other ate or didn’t eat? God, after all, invited them both to the table.” (Romans 14.3)
Our story is revealed by our words and actions. The place and company merely reflect where we find ourselves, the basket of this moment. Some days are filled with glamour. On other occasions, we find ourselves in a metaphorical pub. Every walk of life is gathering. The place does not dictate the themes of our story. I have within me the freedom and accountability to live out my time with others. What I say, how I act, and what I choose will be my lines in this play with other characters. Each will, in its way, share the beliefs, values, and priorities that fill my heart.
Last night I enjoyed a fun meal and a great conversation. The setting was random and opportunistic. The ingredients were there, as in every moment. Together, we listened, reflected, and shared. Looking back, I experienced the Spirit of love, kindness, and care. Today, I can recreate this basket anew.
