Early this morning, I packed the fresh pineapple, the fresh bread, and the Italian salami and cheese. I packed the tangy mustard and the napkin, the fork, the water.
And I forgot it right there in the kitchen.
All day, I thought of the feast prepared and feast forgotten. I thought of all that would have been available to me.
I thought of everything I prepare but leave behind; I think of the careful attention to the Psalms and Proverbs, the prayers, and the journal. I thought of the hope and the joy, the expectancy and the presence.
May I bring it with me and feast all day.