Food For Thought

This just might be the "corn"iest Grace Note you've read. For over fifty years I've said at least one prayer per day over the food I ate. And for fifty years it was more out of habit than a desire for a blessing. In fact, I have even felt guilt (and some embarassment...you know, when you ask the High Priest Group Leader to bless the refreshments at the ward talent show, which consists of cupcakes, cookies and red punch!). How can I really ask God to bless supper tonight with nourishment: pizza, pop, sweet roll and cheesy bread! Well, He is a god of miracles, I guess.

That all changed this last year. Day after day as I was going through chemo, I would feel sick to my stomach. Even after the nausea subsided, the metallic taste in my mouth lingered and made breakfast, lunch and dinner less desirable than usual. I often, and I mean often, would pray over my meals with the plea that it would give me healing strength and taste good.

Several years ago, Mom, Dad, Kathleen, Alan and I went on our own "pioneer trek". As we were touring the Visitor's Center at Martin's Cove, I remember being humbled as the missionaries told of the pioneer Saints starving. What they had to eat (animal hides or spoiled whatever), was prayed over...they prayed that their stomachs and their bodies would be able to accept what little was available. That impression has stayed with me over the years. It makes me more appreciative that I have clean water to drink (from the tap and not the nearest stream...which in my case would probably be Weber River in West Warren...not a trip I want to make each time I feel thirsty). I appreciate that I have a refrigerator, microwave and McDonalds nearby. I have a variety of food to choose from. And if I can get my act together, I can eat healthy.

So, I've put together a few "one liners" using food words to share some additional truths I've learned through my cancer experience. Here it goes:

When life handed me a "lemon", I prayed a lot for "peas" and comfort. I can testify it came. But as a human "bean", there were times when I attended many pity parties, hosted by myself. Each morning as I was "dressing", I imagined that there was noone to "carrot" all; that I was all alone and "berry" discouraged; and I tended to "loaf" around. I tried to "milk" it for all it was worth (and despair isn't worth much). After "stew"ing about it alot, I realized heavenly help was not far away and I had all of you to pull me up and get me going again. Often people would encourage me and say, "orange" you gonna be happy today? You know, it's totally up to you! So I would "roll" with the "punch"es; "squash" the negative thoughts; and "tuna" out the little devil sitting on my shoulder.

I knew much was at "steak". An attitude can hinder or help in healing. I also knew I had "butter" be good so that I could be worthy of God's blessings. I got "egg"cited about writing my Grace Notes. Friends and family supported me with gifts, hugs, phone calls and prayers. You knew I was in a "pickle"and going "bananas", but you came...sometimes in a "pear" (as in visiting teachers) and sometimes you would "pop" over as a group (a.k.a. Young Womens). None of you were "chicken" even though cancer is a fearful word. Sometimes it's hard to know the best way to serve, but you just "Dew" (that one's for you, Brooke). I "donut" know how to repay all the kindnesses offered. I could send you each a "flour". But those daisies and baby's breath don't last forever. So I will just offer my love and try to pay it forward. As the song says, "...if you're ever in a "jam", here I am." "Lettuce" be up and doing for each other.

Okay, that's enough food for thought. I probably could think of more but I don't want to "ham" it up. Maybe you can give me newer, more clever ideas. But bottom line: I have come to appreciate the opportunity to thank Heavenly Father for food and daily strength. Lately, I have thanked Him specifically for the delicious peaches. And I have sincerity as prayers are offered to request his blessing. We take our food for granted, at least I know I did in the past.