It’s been casserole season lately.
Winter’s final exhale has brought a mixture of bittersweet to my circle of friends. There’s been a layoff, a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, a heart scare and a new baby. Along with these changes, comes the ever-present casserole. It is simply the right thing to do. There is something wonderful about a square of comfort delivered by loving hands.
The casserole once was an important reassurance for me. When I was in middle school, my dad was in a life-threatening car accident. My days were filled with school, followed by the long drive to the hospital and back home again. Exhausted, worried and scared, I remember coming home and seeing the casseroles spread out on our kitchen table. Their well wishes brought kind relief and warmth that is hard to explain.
Miraculously, beautifully -- the casseroles kept showing up on our kitchen table. Sweet encouragement from friends, neighbors, church ladies, people I didn’t even know. I have never been more grateful for such kindness.
When you are beat up by life, a casserole might be the best thing you can imagine. It is a glimmer of hope when none can be found. More than food, casseroles say “hang in there, you’re gonna be okay, kid.” It is a high honor to give someone that kind of hope, even if it’s only a casserole.
1 comment:
What a great observation. I find this to be so true where I am from in the midwest. I think food might be the most effective way to minister to someone in need. Maybe it goes to Maslow's hiearchy of needs? Who knows, anyhow, hope you are doing well! Miss seeing the family!
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