“. . . You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” —1 Corinthians 6:19–20 (NIV) 

When I contemplated motherhood, I had no idea how much of my time would be spent prepping and serving food and cleaning up in the kitchen. It turns out, if you have tiny people, you have to feed them. Like, a lot. Daily.  

Our go-to winter fruit, the humble pear, never disappoints. We buy them in bulk and rotate them so that we always have a little bowl of perfectly ripe ones, ready for the grabbing. But after the kids watched me cut soft spots from strawberries, they wondered why we still ate the “yucky” parts of the pear, the browned, bruised spots.  

“Well,” I said, “I have a little secret to tell you. The brown parts on the pear are the sweetest.” I sliced the pear into quarters, letting them taste for themselves. I explained the process of bruising—lots of oxidizing enzymes and phenols I won’t bore you with—and at the end of the taste test, we agreed—the bruised parts were sweeter!  

As they munched, I took the chance to remind them that just as they found flavor and joy in their not-so-perfect pears, Jesus loved them exactly as they were, bumps, bruises, and all. And that sometimes, God uses our bruises to make us even sweeter. We talked about how family challenges had made us emerge stronger. A hard moment on the playground reminded us how to treat others. A missing party invitation brought out our empathy for future guest lists.  

In all things, God works good for His glory and turns our bruises into badges.  

Lord, remind me that while You never long to see me suffer, You have promised to bring good from all things.