Tuesday, November 10, 2009


Little Krissy Liz had a bad habit
of treating her Father like a vending machine.
Culinarally adept, A grand master chef,
He's the virtuoso of delicious cuisine.
But she would settle for pushing His buttons
demanding pre-packaged snacks.
On the whole, she liked the control,
and munched on her plastic wrapped packs.
He longed for her to join Him in the kitchen
studying His craft by His side.
Making jokes while breaking yokes
covered in flour and grinning wide.
As she grew older, her appetite grew,
and she longed for something more
She found junk food gave her sour moods
Got stomach aches at the candy store.
She came home one day, tip-toed in
Standing in the kitchen door frame
Trying not to bother, she watched her Father
sauteeing over an open flame.
She marveled at His care and skill
the thoughful details in all of His dishes
the golden brown, the perfectly round
and sweet blend of spicy delicious
The scent of meat and fresh peppers
Revived her scenses and then
To His delight, she tried a bite,
And was never the same again.
She mourned the years she'd wasted
tunnell vision of vending machines
He often laughed at how she studied his craft
With a passion He'd rarely seen.
Then one day she understood
She wasn't training to cook for herself
Fresh ingredients of, a new kind of love,
She wanted to cook for everyone else.

"There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread." Mother Theresa

"Never again will they hunger;
never again will they thirst.
The sun will not beat upon them,
nor any scorching heat.
For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd;
he will lead them to springs of living water.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." Revelation 7:16-17

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