They Plopped the Baby

Go for the Fat

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

 

It looked the same, the peanut butter jar that is. Grabbing the Jif from the shelf, I kept pace at the grocery store. Checking off the items on my list, I made my way to the register and out the door. However, once home, there seemed to be a slight problem. Each day, as I prepared my peanut butter toast, I shmucked up my lips, twisted my face, and continually scraped my tongue against the strange grain of the peanut butter. Rather coarse, I thought.  And dry.

 

As I made my way to the bottom of the jar, I thought about calling the company to complain. After all, I’ve been eating this stuff for years and never have I had a “bad” jar, so to speak. Dreaming of how many free coupons they might send my way once I called in the complaint, I began formatting in my mind what I would say. How would I describe it to them? I wasn’t sure, but I knew something was desperately wrong with my jar of Jif. Wondering aloud, “Is this jar outdated? Did they just crunch too many peanuts into the jar? Did their machine miss a beat and dumped some old stuff into the container?”  I wasn’t sure. I only knew it tasted funny.

 

Just as I reached for the jar in order to locate the 800 number to voice my complaint, the problem “jumped out” at me in bold letters. There, marked clearly on the jar, I read “Reduced Fat.” I thought I’d purchased my regular jar of Jif, I thought the lid was the same color that I normally selected, and I thought that just because the word “Creamy” was written on the outside of the jar that it was indeed my regular creamy Jif normally purchased. It was not. Apparently, it’s a marketing tool. Blue for extra-crunchy, red represents creamy, and now I know well that the green labeling is for reduced fat.

 

Truth is…it was my mistake. The jar looked the same, the package looked similar, but what was on the inside was something altogether different. There was one ingredient that was missing, the fat. Apparently, it is a much needed ingredient that gives it the flavor and taste that I so relish. It gives it the ability to slide smoothly across my toast without ripping the bread to shreds as well as the ability to swallow without needing three swigs of milk to get er down. The ingredient that it needed was not in the jar I’d purchased, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.

 

I guess that’s sort of like a lot of things in life, Lord, isn’t it. I can’t help but wonder how many things we try to stuff into our lives without the main ingredient that’s needed most. We stuff food, friendships, and 24 hours worth of plans before we add the ingredient that’s needed most…time with You…time in Your word. Pretty soon, our lips are shmucked up, our faces are twisted, and we’re continually scraping our tongue against topics of conversation that demonstrate little love.

 

Thank you for the cushion of healthy you offer us by having the right daily diet. Your label is always clear, and there is no expiration date. You are never old upon the shelf, and each time the taste is palatable, smooth, and gives energy to those who partake. Amen.