A Full Plate

I joined the ranks of vacation visitors to Orlando {for a few hours anyway} when I became a tourist in my own hometown.

My mother, sister and I took a foodie walking tour of the neighborhood of Winter Park, and I asked my sister if she thought we should get a ticket for my niece Devon, who is nine and an extremely finicky eater. 

She said Devon really wanted to go with us and she pledged to try something new at every stop. {Devon later downgraded this optimistic outlook to 40%, worried she had set too ambitious a goal for herself.} 

Our foodie maps in hand to navigate the way to six eateries, we kicked off our tour at a wine bar with mimosas and slices of artisan bread spread with basil pesto, topped with buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes and drizzled with a balsamic reduction.

Devon was served a very tall glass of orange juice {instead of a mimosa, of course} and I immediately thought we might be off to a less than desirable start.

Even though she's never wanted to taste orange juice in her life, she took a sip, shrugged and took another sip.

So far, so good. This might turn out better than I thought.

We moved on to the Ancient Olive, tasting premium olive oils and balsamic vinegars, with exotic flavors like fig, chocolate and lavender. The owner quizzed us on which country we thought made the most olive oil. 

Our group included a well-traveled couple who were also posing as local tourists for the day, but only Devon was brave enough to venture a guess from three choices offered by the shop owner.

She said Spain. 

And she was right.

As we slurped our olive oil samples {as instructed} I wondered how she knew. 

Later she told me after listening to my stories about traveling to Italy, she’d never heard me talk about seeing olives, so she figured there must not be any or I’d have mentioned them. 

That made me laugh.

But it seemed as if all of a sudden I noticed how much of a grown-up Devon was becoming. 

She walked beside our tour guide, chatting about her favorite foods, strawberries and chocolate {eaten separately, of course, never together}. 

She told our fellow tour-goer {who was an airline pilot} about her school project on the Wright brothers.

And when she was a little disappointed to see the chocolate and ice cream stops were the very last on our tour, she waited patiently while we tasted tea at a spice shop and sampled pizza topped with chicken and catupiry. 

{Have you heard of catupiry? I discovered it’s a mild Brazilian cheese developed by an Italian immigrant, which explains its puzzling heritage.}

We finished our pizza and wine and kept on walking to the fudge store, where we sampled apple cobbler ice cream and then made it to our last stop at Peterbrooke Chocolatier.

Finally Devon could enjoy something she liked, chocolate covered popcorn.

I loved how this tour gave me a fresh perspective on all that seemed so familiar. 

And it left me feeling pretty full. But not just with flavorful food and divine drinks.

For a while now I’ve been praying to live my life abundantly, despite what my circumstances might be saying to me.

My prayer is for a life filled with joy, hope and faith. 

Yet, sometimes it seems that what I’m experiencing is the exact opposite of what I’ve been praying for. 

Or is it?

How else could I establish unwavering faith in God’s goodness, unless I find myself believing it despite the little carrot dangling in front of me that's yanked away just when I reach for it?

How else could I expand my narrow definition of what makes me happy unless I determine to find joy even when I'm disappointed?

How else could I redefine what’s hopeful to me unless I see past what’s making me feel downhearted and seems so impossible?

And how else could I get filled up unless I first realized I was empty?

When I feel a little panicky about time or the future or my purpose or place, I'm going to remember these words that were were impressed on my heart by God:

{And maybe you could use them too.}

There’s still plenty of time, but I don’t want you to miss this.

I think my delicious plate right in front of me is already abundantly full.

I'm having coffee with my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for your Heart. Click the image to visit the posts of my blogger friends!