Fresh palate

When my best friend moved to Italy permanently, it changed her; more specifically, it changed her palate. Some would argue for the better, while others would say providing her a meal became more perplexing as her palate became more "sophisticated." When we get a taste of something real, we tend to gravitate towards it. Whether it's food or friends, there's an increasing trend towards searching frantically for authenticity. Strolling through a super market or retail shop proves this new phenomenon as our western culture tries to match Western Europe's natural way of living. It's easier now than in the past to purchase products labeled, organic, natural, local, or sustainable. Paradoxically, social media sensations have left people yearning for lost legitimacy. Perfect photos and premeditated poses cause a distance between human nature and connectivity. Yet, when we get used to a taste, it can be a hard habit to break. One palate prefers McDonalds as truthfully as another prefers homegrown vegetables and wholegrain wheat. One person loves posting pictures while another feels exhausted by the readied reel.
I didn't eat much fast food growing up, and for that I'm grateful, but I was exposed to the fun of cultural holidays with equal enthusiasm. Just as there is nothing inherently wrong with express meals, there's nothing inherently wrong with joining culture in kid-minded holiday activities. However, when my hubby suggested we leave the baskets and eggs out of Easter morning I was a little shell shocked. Even though the boys had already enjoyed their own competitive hunts and gathered their share of eggs, something in me was holding on to my morning Big Mac, confused by my own desire to ingest a strange hamburger for breakfast. I'm so grateful, though, that I married someone readily willing to challenge the norm for the sake of scrutinizing our souls.
I can't express the change in attitude that all the boys had this year. The focus was not "who got the most eggs" or "who's basket had the best gifts." They forgot about all that as we incorporated a new tradition of opening our oven "tomb" to see the hollow cookies we made the night before Easter. We celebrated that Jesus is alive! After a day of joyous jubilee involving worship, picnic park lunch, and ice cream, my eldest said it was the best Easter Day he has ever had. ;) I was the only childish one on Easter wondering if my boys were "missing out" if they saw others hunting eggs and opening gifts. The humility and gratitude for the cross came more strongly as I repented of my love of breakfast Big Macs and embraced a sweeter taste on my palate that resurrection Sunday. I don't see how I could ever go back to fast food now that I've tasted homemade cookies, but we all must be careful whether we enjoy McDonalds or not, do not judge those who do differently. "Therefore, do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration, or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found I Christ" (Colossians 2:16-17).
Find reality, find authenticity, find your fresh palate.