The Taste Test

The Taste Test 

To go grocery shopping when I was child was an expedition in itself. My parents owned no car and they lived a long walk up two hills to the nearest railway station, where a train had to be caught to reach the supermarket. There was no shopping centre complex, just rows of limited shops along a few quiet streets. My mother had four very hungry, growing children to feed and dragging groceries home was a task in itself. My father, of farming background, kept our home vegetable garden flourishing. The milk man delivered creamy, white milk every morning in glass bottles and the bread man delivered  loaves of fresh bread wrapped in waxed paper, each afternoon. Every two weeks my mother would walk those hills, originally dirt roads and pushing babies in prams, to the railway station. She would then take the train ride in old faded red, clattering carriages, dragging a small shopping trolley bag on wheels, behind her, to where the shops were. The supermarket offered a home delivery service. My mother brought home what she could haul and the rest would be delivered later in the day. There was no ducking into the shops for last minute items. This was a calculated, well thought out fortnightly trip into town. If something was forgotten, there was no returning to retrieve it.

My father is a celiac and and when I was a child he had no access to the large range of gluten free products that are available today. Most of our breakfast cereals were wheat or gluten based. However, the one cereal available that he could enjoy was corn flakes. My mother was a stay at home, loving wife and mother, and breakfast time in our house found my mother awake before the rest of the family, preparing the meal and packing lunches for a ravenous mob of kids and their father. Each morning my father would sit at the set table, his breakfast brought to him and  he would enjoy his meal. He always started with corn flakes. There were only two brand of corn flakes available. My father was convinced one brand tasted delicious and the other brand tasted like cardboard. The rest of the family was not so convinced. 

Then the day came. The supermarket shelf was empty of the cornflakes my father loved to devour each breakfast. The only box of cornflakes available was the brand my father did not like at all. My mother took her chances and grabbed the unwanted brand. There was no ability to exchange them at a later date, no opportunity to return easily to the shops to buy the right brand  over the next few weeks. It was this or nothing. She opted for this. When she came home she lamented to me how much my father did not like this brand at all and she had no idea how this would work out. However, I hatched a plan that I knew would be infallible. I rarely ate cornflakes of either brand but to me they tasted exactly the same. There was no difference. The plan was simple. Using the outer  box packaging of the favoured brand, we inserted the plastic bag containing the cornflakes from the disliked brand. I was convinced he would just assume the cornflakes were his beloved brand and all would be well. The next morning I was at the table early and out of the corner of my eye I watched to see the flawless exchange programme work beautifully. My father picked up the box of cornflakes and liberally poured them into his bowl, grabbing hungrily at a few flakes here and there to nibble on, before he trickled the milk over them. He paused, chewing thoughtfully and slowly. He sampled a few more cornflakes. He picked up the box and gazed at it and opened the flap peering inside. He knew something didn’t taste the same. I could barely contain myself and as he spoke up, I started to laugh, so did my Mother and he heartily  joined in. He could easily pick the taste difference in the two brands of cornflakes. 

The Bible tells me to “taste and see that the LORD is good” ( Ps 34:8). Do I know God so well that I can pick the “taste” of a false gospel? Have you ever been tempted to feel like the Lord is not good, that maybe He is mean, or teaching you a lesson ( pointed finger waving)  or you question why a situation worked out the way it did? Do you ever feel like maybe He can’t really be trusted, that you have to sort things out yourself with just a hurried prayer of blessing over your own plans? Do I ever perceive God like this? Maybe I don’t want to say that thought out loud but deep in my heart I can feel it. God is calling me to really taste the difference. To know for myself that He is good and only always good. That He can be trusted. God wants me to know Him so intimately that when satan whispers the slightest breath of tainted murmurings, I will be able to pick the false gospel from the true. Can you taste the difference? Can I? We can know that the Lord is good.

1 Peter 2:3 “…you have tasted that the Lord is gracious”

Heb 6:4, 5 “…and have tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come”

1 Chron 16:34 “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.”