Note: On Tuesdays, you can find me at Your Daily Tripod, owned by my friend TonyD. A longer version of the post below appears there.
Weeknight supper was predictable in the Rigney household: pork cutlets on Mondays; hamburger casserole on Tuesdays; beef stew or pot roast on Wednesdays; some sort of chicken on Thursdays; and on Fridays, creamed salmon on toast, or some other fish. When my siblings and I got into our teens and had after-school activities, we did our best to be out on Monday nights—and to be home Friday nights. Our mother wasn’t an inspired cook, but she did fish better than anyone else I’ve ever known.
But if you did happen to be home on Monday night, there was no making a grilled 
cheese sandwich or anything else for yourself. You were going to eat those awful pork cutlets. You didn’t have to like them, but you were going to eat them because that’s what was served.
God’s kind of the same way. Not every day of our lives brings food we like. It may bring sorrow or disappointment or loss. It may bring joy and bliss and wonder. Accepting what is offered, confident in the Lord’s plan, is really, really hard sometimes. But we submit and put ourselves into His hands, believing He knows better than we do the food that will sustain us for the journey.
