My love for the breakfast meal goes way back to when I was a kid; it was always, and still is, my favorite meal of the day. Back when I was young, though, loving breakfast really had little to do with what I ate and everything to do with the morning ritual that took place between me and Mom and Daddy. Mom would make breakfast for me and Daddy, hand it to us through the pass-through opening in the cabinets while we sat at the bar, and then she would stand at the opening and eat her own breakfast from the counter as her and Daddy chatted about the day ahead. Looking back now, I can't help but wonder why we did breakfast that way ... I can't help but wonder why we didn't all sit together at the table and eat. Maybe that's one of those "when I see them again in heaven" questions to ask. At any rate, when Daddy and I finished eating, he would gather my plate and his and take them to the sink. He would pack up the things he needed for the day, including his lunch that Mom had packed for him into his metal lunchbox along with his giant Stanley thermos filled with coffee. And then ... then he would pat me on the head and give me a hug and tell me to have a good day and to behave (I have no idea why he felt the need to add the "behave" comment every day), and he would wrap his arms around Mom and plant a big kiss on her lips. For many years, I would say, "Gross!" but as I aged, I grew to understand and appreciate the love and affection Daddy's daily morning kiss conveyed to Mom.
With the exception of when I've been traveling, I have eaten the exact same thing for breakfast for the last two and a half years ... three eggs over easy mixed with chive and onion cream cheese, and a glass of almond milk with sugar-free chocolate syrup. I've mentioned many times that food is just food to me now; I rarely get excited about meals like I used to ... except for breakfast. That's the only meal I look forward to every single day, even now when I have little to no appetite because of my new medication ... until Wednesday morning anyway. For all the eggs I've eaten, I have never experienced what I did on Wednesday. I sprayed my skillet with olive oil, cracked the first egg and almost threw up when the egg fell from the shell. Instead of the yolk being yellow and intact, it was ... it was ... well, it was bloody and runny and disgusting. I immediately grabbed the skillet and washed the bad egg down the garbage disposal in the sink, and then I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed my small skillet to make sure there was no trace of grossness left in it. I put it back on the stove and cracked three more eggs ... perfectly normal, good eggs ... and cooked them just like I do every morning. But here's the thing ... I could not bring myself to eat those eggs because of the one bad egg that had preceded them. I tried for a half hour to eat those eggs, friends, and I just couldn't do it. One bad egg had ruined the only meal I enjoyed ... one stupid little egg had taken away the only food joy I had left, and I ended up eating peanut butter for breakfast while I prayed that I wouldn't throw up as I drove to work.
I finally ate eggs again this morning, and as I sat on my couch eating, it struck me that perhaps there was a huge, gigantic, enormous lesson in that bad egg from Wednesday. And the more I've thought about it today, the more convinced I am that there is indeed something God wants to teach me. That disgusting egg was probably rotten, and had I eaten it, there is no doubt that it would have made me sick. Just coming near it ... just looking at it ... just the very thought of it made me sick, so had I actually consumed it ... just thinking about what could have happened makes me queasy all over again. And the lesson God has for me? Sin is a lot like that bad egg ... it only takes one sinful thought or action to sicken my heart. Even if all my other thoughts or actions are pure, the rottenness of sin can cause a detachment and separation from what is good or holy in my life. It shouldn't surprise me, I suppose, that God would choose to use something as small as an egg to teach me about something as big as sin ... it shouldn't surprise me at all.
"Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things." Philippians 4:8
1 comment:
This is why you're supposed to crack your egg into a separate dish before putting it in whatever you're cooking. ;) Sillyhead.
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