Finding God in Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches

This made my day yesterday as a stay at home mom who sometimes questions her decisions (but usually ends up back at the start, grateful and thankful for the choices she made.) A big huge thanks to my sister who made me smile by sending it to me.

When I was in school, especially high school and college, my focus was on building a career. I envisioned myself dressed for success in a well-cut business suit and smart leather shoes, carrying a briefcase filled with important papers, and presiding over meetings where very important issues were discussed. An alternate vision of the future was that I would become a modern-day St. Francis, humbly and happily devoting myself to the wretched and neglected of the world while unassumingly working my way to sainthood.

I spent little to no time envisioning rushed mornings in my pajamas, hair wild and unbrushed, pouring cereal into bowls and orange juice into glasses, finding socks and clean shirts, and spreading peanut butter and jelly on 16 slices of bread.

What’s that expression? We plan and God laughs.

Somehow, in the multiplication of days that turned into a life and a lifestyle, I had to let go of what I thought I wanted out of life and not only accept but rejoice in the life God had given me. Instead of business suits and heels, most of my days are spent in tennis shoes, jeans, and a sweatshirt. Instead of presiding over meetings attended by others dressed in the professional corporate uniform, I supervise homework, transfer endless piles of laundry from the washer to the dryer, and make sandwiches.

God’s Invitation in the Everyday

This letting-go of what my plans were, of what I thought of as my mission, was far from easy. I remember reading with some skepticism what St. Therese of Lisieux wrote about holiness being achieved in the little things of life. St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote often of finding God in everything Everything? Even peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?

Well, yes. I have discovered over the years that sacramental moments are to be found everywhere. As I spread the peanut butter and jelly over eight sandwiches for my four children, I pray that I am not giving them just something to swallow at lunch during their hectic days at school. I pray that they recognize the love and care that envelops them always, in the ordinary moments and in the anxious moments. I make sure I am there at the door when they leave for school, to be sent off with a hug and a kiss and a have a good day. It still amazes me that every day they thank me for lunch, even if it is just an ordinary PB & J.

Written by  Julianne B. McCullagh, Director of Family Life Ministry at St.Philip the Apostle Church in Lewisville, Texas. She writes the weekly column The Family Life Corner. From Loyola Press.com.