I talk to myself in the grocery store.
It’s not a conscious habit, but it dawns on me occasionally that I’m mumbling when other shoppers give me strange looks or smirk a little as I pass by. But I can’t help it. When I’m shopping for groceries, my mind is focused on my list, my weekly meal plan, my budget, my family’s requests, and my kids’ favorite snacks.
As a mom, I spend a lot of mental energy thinking about how to feed my family, how to nourish their bodies at meals, and how to make food enjoyable. Every weekend, I make a meal plan with an accompanying grocery list. On Mondays, I do the shopping (and one person dialogue), the putting away, the washing of produce. I pack lunches every morning at 6:15, usually calculating things like protein, carbs, healthy fats, treats, and sending my kids a little love in their lunchboxes to let them know mom is thinking about them. In the late afternoons, I defrost the meat and chop vegetables, putting together a meal that will both nourish and bring some pleasure to everyone’s palate. Here lately, I’ve been baking snacking cakes so my kids can have a little dessert on ordinary weekday nights. A lot of my life and mental margin revolves around feeding my family.
And sometimes, there are complaints. Too spicy, too much green stuff, not as good as last time. It’s the nature of raising and feeding kids to get some negative feedback from time to time, but unless I messed up and the meal is truly inedible, I don’t give my kids a free pass to skip a meal just because they don’t like it.
I explained it to my young son one night last week when he complained about the spinach in the soup: “The spinach is in there to give you the nutrients you need from a green vegetable. But there are also sausage and lentils in there, which you like. Sometimes we eat the food because it’s good for us, not because it’s our favorite. There’s cake for dessert, and you’re welcome to have it, but I want you to eat the nourishing food your growing body needs first.” Eventually, he plowed through his soup and then (not surprisingly) demolished the cake. His older brother, a teenager with a mighty metabolism and a driver’s permit, has long passed this stage. He eats everything on his plate and then some. (And then some more.) I know that with time and patience my eight-year-old will follow in his brother’s footsteps and learn to value food for the energy and strength it gives, not just its pleasure.
Spiritually speaking, I am my young son sometimes. I want to feast on the Bible passages I love, the ones that make me feel some note of pleasure or comfort. I want the reminders that I’m loved, the encouragements to hold fast, and the songs of praise that remind me of God’s faithfulness. I don’t always want the lists or the history or the stories that don’t seem to affect me. I’m tempted to skim the laws in Leviticus, the names of people I don’t know in 1 Chronicles, the geographical boundary-setting of the conquest in Joshua. I want to speed through the confusing descriptions John wrote in Revelation. Or the hard truths about apostasy in the epistles.
But, the truth is, I need all of God’s Word to feed my soul. All of Scripture is breathed out by God—it all comes from Him, and with purpose. All Scripture is useful, too, for teaching us who God is, for rebuking our sin, for correction so we know how to walk closely with Jesus, for training us to live as people who belong to Him (see 2 Tim. 3:16). We have everything we need for life and godliness in God’s Word. Not one word is wasted or unnecessary. God gave all of Scripture because He knew we would need all of Scripture.
Those passages about the conquest speak to God’s attention to detail and to His meticulous promise-keeping nature. The laws were grace to help His people know how to live and solve conflict and flee idolatry and remember where they came from with His deliverance. Those laws also paved the way for the Messiah, the only One who would keep the law perfectly. The names were people God chose to call to Himself and involve in His kingdom. He knew them intimately. We may not know them, but He did. Doesn’t He also know us intimately? The visions in Revelation warn us about judgment and falling away while also dazzling us with the glory of a Savior who will return to make all things new.
We need it all. The parts that go down easy and the parts that stick in our throats. The comforts that taste sweet like honey and the rebukes that sting with correction. God loves us too much to leave us ill-equipped to walk in faithfulness to Him. Every verse of Scripture can, with the Spirit’s help, nourish our overall spiritual health. That book or chapter of Scripture you’ve been avoiding because it’s hard or confusing? God can use it to produce a lot of growth in your life. Don’t skip the parts you don’t like. We need every word.
That book or chapter of Scripture you’ve been avoiding because it’s hard or confusing? God can use it to produce a lot of growth in your life. Don’t skip the parts you don’t like. We need every word. Share on X
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.
I so relate to every bit of that post!! I spend an insane amount of time meal planning, grocery shopping, cooking, etc. And then the searching for the Scripture I think I need to reach…. I so do that way too often. Thank you for sharing what you are learning in the big things and the little things.
As usual, a timely word Glenna. Thank you for your faithfulness to write and share what God is teaching you
“Amen scripture is given by inspiration of God and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness that the man of God may be perfect thoroughly furnished unto all good works. “ 2 Timothy 3:16-17
Thanks for sharing your love for the Word of God.