I signed up to bring meals to three households this week. Don't be too impressed. For two of them I nabbed frozen butternut squash soup from the freezer at church. Every couple of months a group of generous people make a whopping batch of quiches and casseroles and banana bread, and offer it for anyone who has a new baby, or an uptick in overwhelm. I am not currently on overwhelm. Those days of twins in diapers, and John traveling, and interrupted sleep have slid into Odhner history. My life is manageable. Which is why I offered to bring dinner to three families this week. 

One of the suppers was for a family that is particularly special to my son. Which is why I invited him to help cook. He needed no coaxing, and whipped up a macaroni and cheese with broccoli casserole in my very biggest pan. It smelled delicious. He came with me to deliver it and when the father held out his days old daughter my son took her tenderly in his arms. 

Holding a baby is sweet. Seeing your offspring hold a baby is one order of magnitude sweeter. 

It feels like a small gesture, bringing dinner. And yet I have vivid post partum memories of people walking through the door with hot mitts on carrying split pea soup, and spaghetti, and cookies warm from the oven. I see their faces too. No, I take that back. Mostly I see the food. 

Jesus made the simple directive to feed one another. Fortunately for us hunger shows up every single day. Which renders us yet another opportunity to nourish one another.