A banana sandwich, maybe two, and a cold glass of milk tasted so good when I had played hard outside in the summertime. Many of the lazy days of summer weren’t so lazy for me as I grew up. By the time I spent two weeks in Vacation Bible School, that long in singing school, a week in revival (morning and evening services) and helped my parents do the gardening, I didn’t get to play all day every day. When my cousin Willard would come, we made up for the working days and zapped all the fun out of our time together.
Because he was a couple of years older than me and male (I had all sisters), I looked up to him and took his lead in whatever we played. If a drenching rain had fallen, we would dam up a deep ditch to make a small “swimming hole.” If we had been to a recent cowboy movie (we usually went on Saturdays), we reenacted it scene by scene. I never got to be the main star because he would call it first, but I was happy being Tonto instead of the Lone Ranger or Dale instead of Roy Rogers.
We played so hard we never even noticed how dirty we got or how hot it was. One thing for sure though, our hearing was keen at lunchtime when Mother called us in. We would have to scrub the dirt and mud off our hands, and sometimes even rinse off with the water hose, before we sat down to what tasted like a feast.
Sweet memories
Today, I recalled how good those banana sandwiches tasted. I hadn’t had one in a long time, but I couldn’t decide what I wanted for lunch when I spotted a couple of bananas in my fruit bowl that needed to be used. The sandwich’s taste was almost as sweet as it was on those long-ago summer days, but maybe not quite as good because I was not as hungry as I was after a morning of vigorous play.
Thinking of food and hunger brought to mind an embarrassing incident when our boys were young. Steve was serving as associate pastor church in north Birmingham while we were in school at Samford University. Our funds were always tight, but we made do the best we could.
After church on Sunday nights, a group of friends from church would go somewhere to get a bite of supper. Most nights we had to turn down the invitation to join them because feeding a family of five at a restaurant was not in our budget. One night Steve told our three sons, “We will go tonight, but you will have to be careful what you order. You each can get a hamburger and coke.” They sat in a booth with the other children across the aisle from the adults.
Most everyone ordered sandwiches except for a guy named Slick. He ordered a steak. I noticed Shannon, our youngest who was about four, eyeing him closely throughout his meal. Finally, Shannon said, “Mr. Slick, could I have that bone when you are through with it?” I think that took Slick’s appetite at the thought of that child longing for a bite of that steak. We were humiliated at the time but have laughed about the incident since.
Spiritual appetites
Children’s appetites may long for physical food more than for spiritual fulfillment until they mature into it. When my nephew Marc was three years old, he was riding in the back seat of his mother’s car. He whined loudly, “Not again today, Sweet Jesus.” My sister, Marc’s mom, noticed they were passing by the church they attended. She had taken him all week to revival services where he stayed in the nursery. His spiritual appetite had been satiated for the week.
Yes, our stomachs hunger and thirst for food and drink. I hope our souls do so for righteousness as well. Matthew 5:6 says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled.”
Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” For what do you hunger?
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