Sustenance that Sustains

I spent Tuesday afternoon baking. Usually this is a joyful task. Measuring, stirring, pouring and taste-tasting while upbeat music plays in the background. But not this week. This week I baked to honor a fallen airman, Senior Airman Daniel Johnson, who was killed last week while deployed in Afghanistan. Our family didn't know SrA Johnson personally, but in the military that doesn't seem to matter much; we mourn together.

The "call" went out Sunday. On Wednesday, there would be a reception following the on base memorial for SrA Johnson. The base commander stood up in church and asked us to bake cookies and brownies for the reception. And mentally, I said, "That I can do."
With two young kids at home I knew the more typical ways of honoring the fallen, attending any of the memorials or standing on the street to honor the funeral procession as it drove past, were out of the question. I wouldn't want either of them to be disruptive, even for a split second, at such solemn occasions.

But baking I can do.

So, I spent Tuesday afternoon being a part of another military tradition: whenever there's something out of the ordinary going on, the Air Force shows up with food.

I thought about the times we've received food.
The five meals when David was born.
Cookies, groceries, meals, and the most delicious cherry pie ever while Chris was gone on temporary duty when David was six weeks old.
Meals and alcoholic beverages while Chris was deployed.
Three meals after Timothy was born.
... and I'm sure I'm leaving more out.

I thought about other times we've given food.
I can't help but smile as I think about all the new babies we've helped celebrate with meals.
Muffins and coffee cakes made to welcome new neighbors.
The cookies and pies to say thank you to the airmen we know are having a grueling week, to say Merry Christmas to those who couldn't see their families during the holidays.

And I thought about sad times too.
A memorial for a baby who died shortly after birth.
An airman that died unexpectedly off-duty.

In this way, the military family reminds me of an old Italian grandma. Heck, really any loving parent. The one that gives you a cookie and a high five when you ace a test. The one that makes a mug of hot cocoa and gives you a hug when the gloom outside matches the hurt in your soul. We create sustenance for those going through something extraordinary. There's something so basic about food that can comfort and center you when you're out of your comfort zone, when nothing else makes sense.

I was humming the Lord's Prayer, hoping that whoever ate the food I was preparing would be strengthened by it, and the word that kept coming to my mind was "sustain."

Sustain. Sustenance.

Something in the world that makes sense.

SrA Johnson was laid to rest today. May he rest in peace. Thank you for your sacrifice.