Yesterday I was reading one of my mom’s magazines and came across a list of recipes that they described as “comfort foods.” I chose one and made it for lunch! It was a homemade chicken pie, with biscuits on top, made in a cast iron skillet. For me, it really was comfort food. It reminded me of my grandfather cooking on the prairies with his father in the old dutch oven that we still have. The flavors were the tastes of home, and brought back memories, some from my childhood, and some from my own home.
There are a lot of simple things in this world that bring comfort. The whistle of the tea kettle reminds me of home. The sound of a gas heater coming on takes me back to warming my mittens on the gas stove in the front room when I was a child. The warmth of a cup of tea in my hands as I sit in my study office at home stills my mind and warms my heart. The security of a trusted friend’s hug will bring comfort when I need a safe place to cry.
Sometimes, though, comfort seems to be hard to find.
Recently, I was on a trip to Oregon for a speaking engagement. As always, I enjoyed getting to know a new group of women, and listening to their stories. On this particular trip, a woman came up to me during one of our breaks and said that she had something to share that I needed to know. She said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. So if you need comfort, you need to mourn.”
I was stopped dead in my tracks. Yes, I had been seeking comfort deep within my soul. Yes, it had been quite some time since I mourned. In fact, I needed to mourn several things. It’s so much easier to look for comfort in food, in memories, in friends, in family. Mourning is painful.
As I came home, I began to mourn. Soaking my pillow each night, I talked to God about the deep pain within my heart. And there, just like the scripture said, I found comfort.