Comfort Food
April 8, 2024
The feelings arise.
Overwhelmed. Panicked. Sad. Frustrated. Hurt. Exhausted. Confused.
And then there’s comfort food.
Cookout. A mocha oreo milkshake with hushpuppies. The perfect combination of sweet and savory, melting away my sadness, my confusion, my conflictions, the way that I don’t have a clue of what to do next in my life… each bite clearing my mind until all I can think about is how satisfied I feel with a full stomach of comfort, for a moment, at least.
Comfort food.
The feelings arise.
Trader Joes run. Flowers. Dark chocolate chips. Recently discovered swedish fish, but Trader Joes brand… Scandinavian Swimmers, yes. Fresh popcorn. Tart cherry juice. Also recently discovered, sparkling green tea pineapple juice. Pizza. A fun assortment of random treats, all chosen with the aim to comfort. The excitement and freedom of choosing whatever I please as I graze along the aisles, contesting one treat over the other, taking my mind off, for a moment, of how jumbled I feel. How overwhelmed I am. How in-the-unknown I am.
Comfort food.
The feelings arise.
11am. Beautiful weather. Birds chirping, each chirp fading in and out, keeping me guessing the whereabouts of the origin and content of song from one bird to another. Construction work being done in the distance, machines moving, pipes clanging, and workers working, forcing me to acknowledge, but only at a distance, only for a moment. I can return to my restful state of mind as much as possible. The breeze lightly blowing, refreshing, and moving my hair ever so slightly to balance the heat of the rays seeping through my skin, warmth and refreshment as a mixed result. Filled with peace.
Comfort food.
The feelings arise.
With him. A new comfort. His arms wrap around me, perfectly holding my weight, my feelings being accepted and nourished and held. He’s got me. His words encouraging, his eyes caring, his ears listening, his soul genuine. Intently pursuing how I need to be supported. My heart filled.
Comfort food.
The feelings arise.
My friends, oh my wise friends. The care they hold so close, making it so known that my well-being is of their utmost concern and priority in the moment we have together. Advice here, an ear there, wisdom being exchanged within, filling the mind and soul.
Comfort food.
The feelings arise.
Dawn. Alarm blaring. Ohhhh turn it off! Man. Well, time for my morning. Ah, my morning. Slow, quiet time before the day gets rolling. Uninterrupted, as much as possible. Coffee. Machine burring. Espresso pulled. Milk frothed. Fresh latte. Oat milk with honey and cinnamon. The go-to for the morning. The aroma of fresh coffee, perfect to set my comfort before it’s time to cozy up in my beanbag. Corner of my room. My corner. Journal out, Bible out, mind open, heart postured to hear the voice of God. Uninterrupted time with the creator of the universe. How special. How comforting.
A prayer for just the right amount of Fruit of the Spirit for my day to fill me up and overflow into those around me. My gratefulness that He holds knowledge so that I don’t have to.
Comfort food.
The feelings continue to rise and fall again, in and out of my heart and mind, but the one comfort food that remains the same, no matter what, fills my soul. My Comforter. My Rock. My Salvation. Good comes through all of these things, ultimately from Him: God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
The feelings continue to rise and fall again, comfort food awaiting its call to ease.
Thank you, comfort food.
