My Plate

If you have been hanging around here for any length of time, you know I have a ton of memories that are centered around food. Listen, if my family does not do anything else, we eat. I was raised by my great-grandmother, great-grandfather, and extended family for the first five years of my life. My great-grandmother was old school. We got up early in the mornings so that she could make breakfast for us. Biscuits made from scratch. Rolling out the dough. Dipping the formed mounds in grease. Baking them and waiting impatiently for them to be ready. The stuff of my dreams. Mana from heaven.

After the food was prepared, we would gather around the table, bless the food, and dig in. And the food was always good. I mean top-notch. No complaints over here. Except…I always wanted to taste the food that was on my great-grandmother’s plate. Now, she did not have special food that she made for herself. Her plate was piled high with the same foods that everyone else had. But…it just looked better.

At this point in the story, I am sure that you assume she told me to eat the food on my plate. And you would be wrong. (You know what they say about assuming? Not me…I didn’t say it.) She regularly let me eat the food off her plate. And can I tell you something? I swear it tasted better. The same food that was in bowls on the table just tasted better from her plate. Maybe she did a better job of combining morsels of food on a fork. Or maybe…just maybe…it is because I was a kid and did not want to do the work of feeding myself. I was fully capable. But I liked being babied.

It kind of reminds me of myself at various points in my spiritual walk. I get a healthy heaping of Word on Sundays and Wednesdays. I mean the table is spread and there are delectable, nutritious dishes all around. My plate is prepared. And I want to nibble off what someone else has. I mean my plate is full, but I want somebody else to put some morsels on the fork and feed me. I am fully capable of picking up my fork and diving into the Word for myself. But I do not want to. I like being babied.

Child, this was a reminder that I have to remain committed to ingesting the Word for myself. Wednesdays and Sundays are great starting places but when I leave I need to continue to pick up my fork and feed myself. The Lord put it on MY plate for a reason. #wepreach