She posted it on Facebook last week, and I couldn’t get the question out of my head.
“Do you know that God tastes like brownies dropped off by a friend from seminary when one is feeling very sorry for one’s self?”
Some smarty pants son might ask, just what kind of brownies are you eating, Mom, if they taste like God? And then he might add, WAIT! DON’T EAT THEM. NOT THE WHOLE PLATE. You’re a mother, for goodness sakes.
I’ll tell you what kind of brownies they are, smarty pants boy!
These are brownies for the heart and soul! These brownies SPEAK as you look upon them, as you pick them up and admire their flaky top and their fudgy middle, as you chew them and let the chocolate melt in your mouth! The brownies say, in your brownie-making-friend’s- voice, “I see you, friend. I hurt for you. I hate the pain you’re in, and even if I can’t fix what is wrong and how you’ve been hurt and take away your worry, I can make you these, and I can sit here and try to feed you some love, some God.
And the brownies keep talking. They say in your friend’s voice, “Laura, in my mind I’m putting on my old ratty tee shirt that I can get dirty and my paint shorts that I don’t wear in public, and I’ve got my hair in a pony tail so sweat won’t be a problem, and I’m stepping into your sadness/hurt/messiness with you and FRIEND, WE’RE GOING TO BE OKAY BECAUSE I BROUGHT CHOCOLATE!
These brownies- they won’t shut up! They even speak for themselves, saying, “And when you eat us, even if you’re huddled in a corner by yourself, know that your brownie-making-friend is with you, along with all your friends, standing tall before God, waving around picket signs they made all about you and how you need help, signs that say “BRING LAURA PEACE NOW, PRETTY PLEASE” and “DOESN’T SHE DESERVE A BREAK?” and “KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCKING FOR LAURA, GOD. DON’T FORGET MATTHEW 7:7”
Sometimes when we make food for each other, we’re just making food for each other. But sometimes, like with Laura’s brownies, it’s so much more. Sometimes, when we’re all in and God is with us, brownies aren’t just brownies.
Chocolate, anyone?
