Food = Love = Happiness

I love my family.

That may sound obvious, but maybe you don't know the kind of love I'm talking about.

LOVE.

As in, big hugs and smiling faces and full tummies love.

I love them for many reasons, but this Christmas I loved them extra much for their gluten free cooking.

Before we left for northern Wisconsin to celebrate Christmas with my family, I did the following:

1. Had a month-long stretch where our son slept only 1 or 2 hours at a time at night.
2. Got a nasty cold and flu bug.
3. Preached a Sunday service and a Christmas Eve service in two consecutive days.
4. Drove through the night in swirling snow to arrive at 3:00am with a wide awake baby.

I arrived lower than low. Head cold low. Exhaustion-of-a-new-mom low. Advent-is-over-and-I-am-pastorally-spent low. I practically stumbled over the threshold of my parents' house, grabbed the nearest Kleenex box, and crawled into the guest room bed.

And then, in the morning, there was food. Delicious, incredible, utterly gluten free food. My mom had baked four types of cookies. My dad was frying up eggs and hashbrowns. Dinner was turkey and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and gravy and green bean casserole - all gluten free.

As the week went on, so did the food.

This is my new brother-in-law, Michael, my brother-in-law, Jared, and my sister, Caroline, all working to safely sautée up some zucchini and cook some garlic mashed potatoes for the night's dinner. Jared used the wrong pan for the garlic, so he scrapped it and started completely over - just for me.

And wouldn't you know it, in just a day my head cold was gone and strength was returning to my Advent-exhausted self. A little food, made with love, made all the difference.

That, and watching our little boy meet the family. That was sweet indeed.

I usually don't mind getting by with my own food. I bring my own gf granola bars to parties; I pack sandwiches in my purse for denominational gatherings. I order just tea or coffee at the town diner when I visit with congregants. But on Christmas, I really wanted to eat. I wanted to eat what everyone else was eating. I wanted to eat cookies and pie and turkey and potatoes and soup until I couldn't eat anymore.

So eat I did, because of the love of a family that cooked all our meals gluten free. That's love.

Merry Christmas, indeed!

I love you guys.