This is the bread.

When Graham was about 16 months old, he had a slight toast obsession. By slight, I mean toast morning, noon and night was just fine by his standards. But there was only one kind of bread he could eat, and Whole Foods was the only place that sold it, so we would stock up on 5 loaves at a time. Every time we put it in front of him, we would ask him to thank Jesus for his food, and he would look at it and calmly say 'This is the bread.' It cracked us up every time; he was so matter of fact about it, and so excited for bread every.single.time.

It's been quite the journey with his food intolerances/allergies/general craziness, and while it's become normal life by now, there are times it strikes us just how 'different' his life is from a lot of kids'. One of these times was this past weekend at his cousin's birthday party, where Jim took this picture:

Every other child there was happily eating pizza and cupcakes; Graham, however, had pasta, black beans and sweet potatoes. And he too, was eating happily, completely oblivious to what he was 'missing'. This is a kind of common grace, and by no means from anything we as parents have done. It's a blessing that he is so content. It's also humbling. And it makes me wonder...

When he used to say 'this is the bread', I wonder if it wasn't so much a statement of generality, but possibly of acceptance. Learning that this - this bread, this life, this lot - was given to him. And not only that, but he said it when we talked about praying and thanking God for his food. 'This is the bread' was not just a statement (although it was hilarious - I really wish we had it on video) - it was an offering of thanks, thanks for what was given to him. It wasn't just a passive acceptance either. It was conscious and willful. Sometimes I wonder if he had to say it to remind himself that this is what he was given, and what he was given was good for him.

I know, I know. Far too  existential and deep for a 16 month old. Regardless, it's a good lesson for me, for all of us, really. That our lives, our circumstances, hardships, outwardly 'good' things - all of them are our bread. They were given to us for our good. Maybe that's obvious, maybe it's not. But rather than just mundanely accepting 'this is my life for better or for worse', it really spurs me to be consciously thankful and aware that it's all a gift; it's all for my good - the mundane, the exceptional, the horrible, the sad, the happy, the exciting, the terrible, the sad - every moment is given.

This is the bread. Amen.