“Food is symbolic of love when words are inadequate.” -Alan D. Wolfelt
Isn’t that the truth? Sometimes words really aren’t enough. But food can be a powerful and yet simple expression and extension of love.
I’ve been on the receiving end of meals more times than I can count. They’ve come in celebration of our son Isaac’s birth and moving to a new home. They came when I was on bed rest and dealing with severe morning sickness. They came when I tore my rotator-cuff and was recovering from surgery. Whether in times of hardship and desperate need or times of joy and celebration, the times my family has received meals are times I think of with deep gratitude. There’s just something special and warming to the soul about having a meal prepared for you.
A neighbor of mine recently had a death in her family. I don’t know their family well, but I know circumstances enough to know that they are grieving. I decided to step up and be neighborly, but a sincere gift of flowers and words on a card just seemed to fall short of what I wanted them to feel. I wanted them to feel loved. Thought of. Cared for. Not forgotten during this very difficult time. I wanted them to know that even when things like this happen and things don’t make sense, that there is still something worth living for. (Granted, only God can comfort them in ways that they are craving in this time of grief), but I just felt that there was something more I could do to assure them that they are not alone.
Memories of all the meals that had been delivered to my family over the years quickly came to mind. I specifically remembered when a dear friend came over the weekend of my miscarriage with a bag full of groceries and prepared food for me and my husband. She cleaned our kitchen and cooked and listened to me pour out all that I was thinking and feeling. Her kindness didn’t make everything better, but it did significantly make me feel loved.
I know food won’t take their pain and sorrow away as they grieve, but I also know that the act of bringing food is an act of love and one that can lift and encourage their wearied hearts.
Have you ever given or received a meal? Care to share your story?