When I am afraid, I will put my trust in you. Psalm 56:3
“The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety.”
– George Muller, Christian evangelist
Achieving those notable childhood milestones – first steps, first words, mastering the skill of riding a two-wheeler, tying your own shoelaces, first day of school – always makes for beaming moms & dads.
Then there are those other things unique to each family. Some might be into playing sports, others may be into raising animals, to each their own. One of many subjects of significance for my nephew Maxwell’s family happens to be an acute awareness of what slips into their lips. Thus, continual efforts strive to successfully instill the family’s dietary values.
I was on the receiving end of a stark reminder of the fabulous family’s particular food preferences after trying to bribe my nephew. Max & his two younger siblings were under my supervision for the time being.
“If you’re good,” I vowed to the 5-year-old & his 3-year-old sister Penelope, “I’ll give you a treat after Harrison wakes up.”
The prospect of receiving something special once their baby brother awoke from napping sprawled all over Aunt Amy didn’t come anywhere even remotely close to going over as well as I’d envisioned. No ecstatic “Hoorays!” or enthusiastic “Yeas!” met my proposal.
Contrary to what I was expecting, from mindful Max my ears picked up the following austere & extremely well-trained-to-avoid-non-approved-edible-items response. Rest assured Maxwell’s proud parents will be overjoyed upon reading their compliant eldest’s reply.
“It can’t have dairy or gluten.”
BUT WAIT! In error I presumed the anecdote was wrapped up, that is, until this unfolded:
At a posh salon a mere three days later, Pen’s brother got a haircut before the start of school. The petite princess ever so gingerly leaned in & warily eyed my sandwich. Seconds barely passed before the coming forth of the girl’s no-nonsense take on my packed lunch.
“That has chemicals.”
Eating lighter, I’ve discovered, is the way to go! Smaller portions, instead of three large meals per day, are easier to digest and make a (very positive & much-appreciated) noticeable difference in the way my forever-altered-due-to-cancer system operates.
Coming from an eater like me, the switch to decreased meal sizes does not present difficulty, but is actually an extremely welcomed change. If my pancreas – which is plagued with chronic pancreatitis – was able to voice input, I’m quite sure the glandular organ would thank me profusely for lessening its workload by no longer bombarding it with large amounts of food.
What else can I say? Whatever health issues you are facing, you may feel a lot better by remembering:
Less IS best!
“Cheese and jelly . . .” chanted my cute-as-a-button niece prior to gleefully gobbling her signature snack at Grandma’s house. In addition to small white squares of raw organic cheese topped with likewise organic strawberry jelly, a handful of cold raisins sat in the corner of her grey plastic plate.
“. . . In my belly!” I finished her off-the-cuff song with my own rhyming ending.
There we sat, on a Sunday afternoon after a 9:00 church service, the girl to my right as I ate my own snack while she enjoyed hers.
One of the best things about being around young ones all the time, at least for me, is hearing them talk of the latest things they’ve learned. Such was the case now. Only this time it wasn’t singing the entire alphabet correctly or counting all the way from one to a new high number.
I was flabbergasted, to put it mildly, when this youngster proceeded to spew forth a concoction of words I’ve heard many times before, but never expected to be told by an unfledged girl of four.
“Does your face hurt?” asked my sweet little niece all dolled up in a lovely pink floral dress that, if at all possible, made this soon-to-be-preschooler even more adorable.
“No,” I replied.
A mischievous grin crinkled her cheeks as the little sponge uttered, “It’s killin’ me!”
This weekend I realized that my first priority in life needs to be the acronym J.O.Y. which stands for Jesus first, others second, & yourself last. If I lived on my own & struggled for money, I know I could survive, but that’d be selfish on my part because the two charities I support & my blog to encourage others would undoubtedly suffer.
I read a verse I saw on Facebook Saturday that really hit home:
The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still. Exodus 14:14
Also, reading over last Sunday’s church notes I read:
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Philippians 4:4
There you have it, for now I think.