The Day I Cried in the Grocery Store

You’ve seen the pictures.

Utter devastation.

Its hard to believe that this level of disaster has happened so close to us. That people we know had answering machines that said, “Sorry we can’t get back to you. We haven’t had power for two weeks.” That friends of friends lost houses and cars… and even loved ones.

I think we can all get a bit desensitised to news reports… like when we were in the midwest in one of winter’s “worst storms” but we totally got out fine. I love the news but it can be a bit… dramatic?

But sometimes life is dramatic.

This was our grocery store. Oh, there was food. But you had to go looking for it. And it definitely what you wouldn’t normally buy. Some weeks there were apples; others there were peaches. Somedays there was milk; somedays orange juice. Some days the meat trays were all the way empty.

Its amazing the things we take for granted.

And so, in the midst of devastation, we made it a point to be grateful. For three weeks as we wondered what food we’d be able to buy and eat, we prayed for those who wondered if they’d find their loved ones. When we were craving chicken, we thought of those who didn’t know if they’d have a home left.

Because even those $10 cauliflower heads came at a price… flown in by men in green uniforms on camo helicopters.

And that’s why, this weekend, when I went to the grocery store and it was almost all the way stocked, I cried.

Yes, the prices were still way too high. And no, they still don’t have celery or greens beyond iceburg lettuce…

But there was food. And there were people. And we were there to feed our families.

We still get to feed our families.

The infrastructures we have in this life we enjoy are paper thin. We place a lot of trust in commerce and transport. And it works… most of the time.

But when it doesn’t, it causes us to reflect and be grateful and maybe even consider what we could do to help someone else who doesn’t have access to milk and carrots and bread at the drop of a hat.


Eating Out

We eat out almost every night… outside, that is. The weather is so nice… and after working inside all day there really is no better place. (Especially when the alternative is our warm, un-airconditioned kitchen.)

Eating out(side) has fast become one of my favourite moments of the day. The delight on Max’s face having his daddy home. Jared’s face lighting up with pride as he elicits uncontrollable giggles from his baby boy.

This is the life.

And isn’t he so yummy?


I’m have a very inarticulate memory, but one of my favourite quotes is about how things either keep growing or they die. Its so true about life.

Today while Jared was doing a car wash to help raise money for the April DTS’s outreach, Max and I (along with our friend Alana) planted a herb garden. The plants were a fantastic birthday gift from an incredibly thoughtful and perceptive friend.

And though I am possibly the farthest removed from a greenthumb you’ll ever meet, something within me wants to be an amazing gardener. I love using fresh herbs in our cooking. I love growing our own food. And I feel so frugal and accomplished and healthy knowing that it has come from our own garden.

I especially love walking to my house and seeing things growing and alive… like my little garden. Something in my heart comes alive with the freshness of it all.

We were made to continue grow too. Sometimes I look back on the past 7 years we’ve been affiliated with YWAM and I am amazed. I think I always thought that one day we would become. That we would grow to a point and just flow on from there. But in reality, the more that we grow, the more I realise we are on a very long journey.

Our vision is greater than it ever has been and part of my wonders how it could get any bigger at all.

But I know it will. If it doesn’t grow, it will die.

Max is growing too. After a month of him chomping at us every time we were eating, swallowing (approved) bites of Mommy’s dinner very well, chewing on EVERYTHING in site as if it were the yummiest meal he’d ever had, and being able to sit up on his own for 10 minutes, I decided it was time. I bought brown rice and a week later finally got around to grinding it in a friend’s coffee grinder (after several useless minutes attempting with our $5 garage sale food processor).

Even though I was prepared by all the books to not worry when he spit most of it out and didn’t swallow, he pretty much ate everything I gave him, leaving only a tiny bit in the bottom of his green froggy bib.

My boy is growing.

This often makes me sad. It amazes me that I can be holding him in my arms and simultaneously missing the newborn he once was. But I know that its life. That its good. He has brought so much life to Jared & me. And I know that there are so many more lives he has to impact.

So, it is with a bittersweet sigh I say today,

Grow on sweet smelling herb garden…

Grow on vision…

And grow on my precious little boy…