Hope in things to come

     I was five or six years old when sentience kicked in regarding my food sensitivities. I remember going to a birthday party and having cake. We rarely had cake, except at birthday parties, which weren't that often because we lived in a small neighborhood in a small town, with a very small school.  We went to the party, and I ate a piece of strangely sweet cake of the likes that I had never tasted before. Not long after returning home, I was doubled over in pain. My stomach hurt like I couldn't ever remember it hurting before. It occurred to me that the only thing different that day, as I writhed in pain and eventually ended up in the bathroom, was the cake. 

     Not much later, I discovered that buttermilk pancakes hurt me as well. Then cereal with milk. Chocolate milk. Ice cream. Cheese. Muffins made with milk. The cherry yum-yum dessert at the church potluck, which was some heavenly concoction containing cheesecake, cherries and graham crackers with whipped cream? All digestive land mines for me. Some yogurts. Buttermilk waffles. Scrambled eggs with milk and/or cheese. Did you know Doritoes have Romano cheese in them?

     As I grew, my stomach became more sensitive, the pain much harsher, and the consequences worse for mistakenly ingesting any form of milk, except butter. Captains wafers with sour cream and chives. Chocolate chip cookies. Cheese pizza!  Feta cheese. McDonalds Soft serve ice cream. Kit kats. It turned out that pretty much anything and everything I loved has some form of milk in it. More specifically---lactose...which is milk sugar. Then, I had the same experience with Apple juice when I was 15. I haven't willingly drank apple juice in 24 years after that night. I finally came to the conclusion that I can't have heavily concentrated sugar of any sort. And I dare anyone to try and easily find a juice blend today that doesn't have apple juice as a major ingredient. But I digress...

      At first it was really hard to live without these wonderful foods. I would try those pills, which barely worked. Chalked that up to a hyper sensitive gastrointestinal tract. Mistakes were costly. I would eat the wrong thing, perhaps not guessing the ingredients (who knew so-and-so added condensed milk to their mashed potatoes?) I would pay severely for that later on. Question: How many youth groups are there that have pizza parties? Answer: a lot. And so on. When my boyfriend (now husband) & I were first dating, he would order an ice cream cone and eat it with great delight and relish it in front of me, just to tease me. He was great like that (joking). He only did that a few times, to his credit >smiling<

 But all joking aside,  I learned to live with it.

   I learned to work around it. I eat before I go places. After dealing with it for years and years now, I have replaced those things I once thought I could never live without, with new pleasures. Although sometimes it feels like a rather bland diet, it has been a steady progress. Through science, new enterprises, and the burgeoning explosion of new foods, there is now ice cream made out of soy or coconut milk. It's not quite the same, but a good substitute. There is dark chocolate of the most exquisite taste, without milk. And sections of foods in grocery stores that lack milk. Not to fail to mention the exciting world of exotic foods such as Thai, which utilizes many amazing ingredients like curry and coconut milk, also lacking actual dairy.

     My boyfriend-turned-husband, James, has become a relentless seeker of non-dairy delights for me. He goes to the store for the family, and checks ingredients like a modern day Sherlock Holmes/Knight in shining armor for me. Nothing is ever bought by him that is not examined for all forms of milk sugar. He also methodically peruses grocery store shelves seeking items I may like, bringing me home rare treats like Belgian chocolate. I am truly blessed and always surprised by joy at his empathy and kindness now. He's come a long way from the soft-serve ice cream eating tease he once was. I would never try anything new if it weren't for him. But that's another story.

     The children are sympathetic. They solemnly know what I have to deal with, having seen "Mom" get rapidly ill after making a mistake eating milk products. They pray for me. They notice when I pass over a lot of different food groups, serving myself a salad or something else. They also truly know and understand what I have to deal with.

     I've come to use some of those moments to speak about Heaven with them. I love to describe what Heaven will be like, sharing that when we are finally with God, He has a place for us, a home that Jesus Himself is preparing, and everything will be made perfect and new. There will be no more crying with Him. There will be a feast--the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, and we will be made whole and perfect. There will be no more lactose intolerance... And I remind them that while our time on earth may seem long sometimes, in reality, Heaven is eternal, and so we all may suffer some on earth, yet it will not be this way in Heaven with God. They sit and listen, and then rattle off a seemingly endless list of what I will eat when we finally arrive home.

     Which brings me to my new blessing and Ebenezer stone. Last night, we celebrated Fat Tuesday, or the party before Lent. We went to a local resturant and enjoyed a lovely meal as a family. Elias chose to give up sweets for Lent, and asked for milkshakes afterwards. Because we drove in separate cars, I left the resturant to get something from a grocery store after the meal. The rest of the family went to the Cook-Out for milkshakes.

     As I drove to the store, a small part of me wished for a milkshake. I don't often long for milk products anymore. It just is what it is. But last night? I thought hard about what milkshakes used to taste like. The rich creamy taste of cold, sweet, ice cream with all sorts of ingredients. Some of my favorites, as a young child, were Blizzards from the local Dairy Queen, that my Father would get for me. I quickly put the thought out of my head, finished my shopping, and began the drive home.

     As I drove, I wished for something akin to a dessert. Do you ever crave something, yet not know precisely what you want? It was like that. Then a friend texted, out of the blue, and asked if we went to fastnachts. After discovering that it was the German version of the celebration before Lent, my friend offered to bring over some fastnachts cakes. Kind of like a doughnut, but also similar to a funnel cake on steroids, fastnachts cakes are glorious!

     Within 30 minutes, our sweet friends came by our house and hand delivered some of the most delicious cakes I've had in a very long time. They had been over to mutual friends house, and were making rounds celebrating. We enjoyed their company, though brief, and then enjoyed these amazing cakes! It was such a treat and delight! We were very blessed.

     Today, it hit me. Such a small desire last night, to have some kind of dessert. Not even an hour later, my beautiful friends show up with still warm cakes for our family. If these are the kindnesses, and love of God displayed on earth...cakes made before my heart even longed for something I couldn't put my finger on...what must our heaven hold? What has God, who knows our hearts better than we do, have in store for us? I can't even begin to imagine, but I know it is going to be beyond our wildest dreams.