Muffin theology

On Friday the phone rang and it was a friend up the street who was calling me from the hospital. She just lost her husband a few weeks ago, and her own health is a concern as well. She was at Good Sam being treated for Pneumonia, and she wanted us to know. This meant her boys were home alone. I promised her I would cook dinner for them and bring it over.

I was taking care of Mercy’s best friend all day Friday, and as the dinner hour approached, it was no small amount of chaos in the house as I tried to cook. It ended up that I could only pull off one nice dinner, and that was the dinner that got packed up into Tupperware containers and stacked on the dining room table. My kids got scrambled eggs and some fruit and vegetables.

As Mercy and Aaron gazed longingly at the noodles and muffins that were packed away, Mercy turned to me and asked: “Mommy, I would like to have some of that food.”

“We are sharing this food with some kids whose Mommy is sick and can’t take care of them tonight,” I replied.

“But I want those muffins,” she continued.

“I know. I do too. But we are going to give away all of these muffins. We are being like the little boy John who gave away EVERYTHING he had instead of just giving a little bit like P. Benjamin Methuselah (from the Walt Wangerin re-telling of the story of the Widow’s coin in the Arch book series). God loves it when we give all that we have instead of just giving a little bit.”

Mercy paused and thought about this.

Then she looked up at me with a big smile: “I know, Mommy! God can heal their Mommy and then she can go home and make food for her kids…and then we can eat these muffins.”

Apparently my daughter has a robust theology of healing, especially when blueberry muffins are on the line.