Day 1:
He invites me to His banqueting table
He gave a command to the skies above and opened the doors of the heavens; He rained down manna for the people to eat, He gave them the grain of heaven. Human beings ate the bread of angels; He sent them all the food they could eat (Psalm 78:23-25).
Whenever we went to her favorite restaurant, my colleague would always order avocado toast. I'm not sure she understood—even though I tried to explain—why I laughed each time a server would arrive with piles of toast smeared with creamy avocado and topped with greens.
"Obsession", and "craze" are some of the words used to describe the avocado toast phenomenon in the culinary world. And despite speculation as to whether its popularity is declining, food-trend-trackers report that the viewership for Avocado Toast on YouTube is in the millions.
Much has been said about the outrageous prices of avocado toast in trendy restaurants—up to over $100 for gussied up versions! Which brings me back to my laughter. The thought of the lowly, humble avocado of my childhood running in sophisticated circles, elevated to jet-set orbits in the food world—creates in me the urge to dissolve into helpless laughter. Perhaps it's the memory of my mom's wry tableside humor...
The midday meal was the main meal of the day for most people in the time I grew up. Later in the evening, we would have a light meal—usually "tea" (any hot drink was generally called tea!) and "penny bread" from the mobile "bread van." On most days we would have jam, or peanut butter, or some sort of processed protein (sausage, corned beef, salami, ham, etc.) with our bread. But occasionally, when funds ran out, we would be down to just plain "bread and tea."
"What's to go with the bread?" we would ask our mother. "Mouth," she would reply, with her dry wit, and wry smile. We hated when she said that! But we knew that meant there was no money for salami, or sausages, or spam. Or even sardines, which was a cheaper, and (unknown to us then), healthier alternative.
It was on those days that we "defaulted" to one of two trusty standbys—avocadoes (zabocas), or ripe plantains. We never had a name for our "avocado sandwich," but bread with fried plantains came to be known as "fry-o" in our house.
Years later, I couldn't suppress my own wry smile when I learned of a "fry-o" sandwich offered at a top-tier hotel in the Caribbean. And as for avocado toast, you now know why its appearance on trendy restaurant tables tempts me to full, unrestrained laughter!
Those "in the know" have cited the nutritional benefits of avocadoes as one of the main reasons for the avocado-toast-explosion. Besides being packed with healthy fats, vitamin K and folate, an avocado contains about 975 mg of potassium, one of the highest levels of any food, according to the experts!
Conversely, modern nutrition science has shown us that processed meats are decisively detrimental to our health. Numerous studies have linked them to various types of cancer, Type 2 Diabetes, and heart disease.
I think about some of the reasons for the topsy-turvy views about food in my childhood world. It wasn't just the insufficiency of nutritional information—it was also the complex historical, cultural, and social forces that combined to establish perceptions of "value." Perceptions that led to choices of harmful processed meats over beneficial avocadoes.
I think that in a spiritual sense, we face the same temptations to "faulty" perceptions of value. I reflect—sometimes with the help of hindsight—on how often I have disparaged, devalued, or underestimated the staples of grace, choosing instead to elevate false "valuables" that can bring me long-term harm.
I think of how often God has opened the doors of the heavens and rained down [His] manna over my life, and I stare stupidly at the grain of heaven—my angel food—and ask, "What is it?" (Numbers 16:13).
I think of how, like the people of Israel, I foolishly spurn the power-packed provisions from God's hands, thinking them too humble, too ordinary. How my uninformed notions and my upside-down values and perceptions cause me to grumble at the overwhelming privilege of eating the sweet, delicate, "bread of angels"—and crave instead, sausages, and spam, and quail (Numbers 11).
I am grateful that the "difficulties" of my childhood helped me develop an appetite for avocadoes—nowadays called God's butter (or nature's butter). And I pray that through the difficulties of life, I would not grumble and complain, but would ask for and gather God's daily manna. And relish my fry-o sandwiches and avocado toasts!
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