This is the first time that I've been a part of a family that eats dinner together every night. Before my parents' divorce, I have a few memories of it. However it was nothing like the consistency that I have now. Over the years of my family now, we've evolved from taking the plates outside and eating in our laps to popping up the tiny table in our kitchen to now, taking everything to the dining room and filling the table with all these beautiful babies that we have.
This particular Sunday night I baked a ham and made real food (a meal that it usually as casual as the weekend and kept very simple). It struck me-I snapped a picture on my phone during setup: I'm an adult in a family system that looks so much better than what I've known. It's beyond redemptive. It's beyond wonderful. It's beyond safe. It's so good.
Making dinners for my husband, my children, our extended family, and our friends is my gift to them, but it's also the best gift to myself. While I enjoy it deeply, it also feels like walking on shaky ground. Holding goodness is new (and sometimes scary) to me. I've found much comfort in Paul's words in Philipians and pray that I may say the same thing one day: "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing PLENTY and hunger, ABUNDANCE and need." (4:11-12)