“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” I Corinthians 10:31
Paul’s verse is a humdinger because it means that the two things I do every day — the two things my daughter has been doing since she was born — are ways of giving God glory. Not a day goes by where we don’t eat and drink something.
I love donuts. I love coffee. My daughter loves donuts too. She loves milk.
When we enjoy those gifts — and acknowledge that they are gifts from God — we glorify Him.
Sadly, I don’t do this all the time.
Every evening at dinner time, our daughter gives thanks for the meal.
For awhile, she sang, “God, our Father…” Then she moved to a remix of a mealtime classic: “God is good. / God is great. / Let us thank Him / for what’s on this plate!” Now she’s settled on the classic version: “God is great. / God is good. / Let us thank Him / for our food. Amen!”
If I were to rate on average the way her tone of voice matches her prayer, I would give a 4.2 out of 10. She’s saying “thank you” with her lips, but she sounds like she’s saying, “this again?”
She’s got her reasons. We’ve typically had to pry her away from an episode of Wild Kratts or some super important project to sit at the table with us and eat.
As a result, we get her to say the prayer, but her voice says she’s anything but grateful.
This bothers me.
But when I look at my own solitary eating habits, I realize that I rarely stop to thank God for the food I eat. It’s only when I’m with people that I take the time to pause to say thanks for one of the things I love most in the world.
Even when we eat as a family, there are times I don’t intentionally stop to have us pray.
Take, for instance, our weekend donut run.
From the time Cat was 2 years old, we would go get donuts together on Saturday morning. Eventually, my wife joined us each Saturday, and it’s been a tradition we’ve continued even in the midst of the pandemic.
We could sit in our car, order some donuts at a drive-through, then enjoy a bit of delicious normalcy in the midst of the pandemic’s craziness.
This morning, I realize that never ask for a blessing for our sweet treats.
My daughter and I went on a super early donut run without my wife. Once the donuts were in the car I let Cat choose which one she wanted. She chose a yeast donut with chocolate and M&Ms frosting. Meanwhile, the aroma of a cinnamon roll, a lemon-filled donut, a blueberry cake donut, a maple bacon donut, and a chocolate-creme filled donut filled the car.
I knew it was going to be a busy day, but here we were privileged enough to be enjoying some flat-out delicious pastries first thing in the morning. I needed to intentionally grateful.
“Can you pray before you eat?” I asked.
She didn’t miss a beat: “God is great. / God is good. / Let us thank Him / for our food. Amen!”
And you know what? She was coming in at least a 7.5/10 on the voice/words match scale! She was thankful!
“Can you remind me to pray every time we get donuts?” I asked her as we drove home. “Donuts are delicious, and the baker and God deserve thanks for this feast!”
My daughter nodded as she stuffed her face with the donut.
That’s something to be thankful for!
Paul’s verse is a humdinger because it means that the two things I do every day — the two things my daughter has been doing since she was born — are ways of giving God glory. Not a day goes by where we don’t eat and drink something.
I love donuts. I love coffee. My daughter loves donuts too. She loves milk.
When we enjoy those gifts — and acknowledge that they are gifts from God — we glorify Him.
Sadly, I don’t do this all the time.
Every evening at dinner time, our daughter gives thanks for the meal.
For awhile, she sang, “God, our Father…” Then she moved to a remix of a mealtime classic: “God is good. / God is great. / Let us thank Him / for what’s on this plate!” Now she’s settled on the classic version: “God is great. / God is good. / Let us thank Him / for our food. Amen!”
If I were to rate on average the way her tone of voice matches her prayer, I would give a 4.2 out of 10. She’s saying “thank you” with her lips, but she sounds like she’s saying, “this again?”
She’s got her reasons. We’ve typically had to pry her away from an episode of Wild Kratts or some super important project to sit at the table with us and eat.
As a result, we get her to say the prayer, but her voice says she’s anything but grateful.
This bothers me.
But when I look at my own solitary eating habits, I realize that I rarely stop to thank God for the food I eat. It’s only when I’m with people that I take the time to pause to say thanks for one of the things I love most in the world.
Even when we eat as a family, there are times I don’t intentionally stop to have us pray.
Take, for instance, our weekend donut run.
From the time Cat was 2 years old, we would go get donuts together on Saturday morning. Eventually, my wife joined us each Saturday, and it’s been a tradition we’ve continued even in the midst of the pandemic.
We could sit in our car, order some donuts at a drive-through, then enjoy a bit of delicious normalcy in the midst of the pandemic’s craziness.
This morning, I realize that never ask for a blessing for our sweet treats.
My daughter and I went on a super early donut run without my wife. Once the donuts were in the car I let Cat choose which one she wanted. She chose a yeast donut with chocolate and M&Ms frosting. Meanwhile, the aroma of a cinnamon roll, a lemon-filled donut, a blueberry cake donut, a maple bacon donut, and a chocolate-creme filled donut filled the car.
I knew it was going to be a busy day, but here we were privileged enough to be enjoying some flat-out delicious pastries first thing in the morning. I needed to intentionally grateful.
“Can you pray before you eat?” I asked.
She didn’t miss a beat: “God is great. / God is good. / Let us thank Him / for our food. Amen!”
And you know what? She was coming in at least a 7.5/10 on the voice/words match scale! She was thankful!
“Can you remind me to pray every time we get donuts?” I asked her as we drove home. “Donuts are delicious, and the baker and God deserve thanks for this feast!”
My daughter nodded as she stuffed her face with the donut.
That’s something to be thankful for!