I vividly remember being an elementary school aged kid desperately searching the cabinets for canned goods. In the morning rush, before catching the bus,

“Ahhhhh! It’s the last day of the CANNED FOOD DRIVE!”

I couldn’t let my classmates down. I’m sure some sort of pizza party would be in the works for the class that brought in the most canned goods. I didn’t cook as a child so I had no idea what “Cream of Mushroom” soup was. Quite honestly, it sounded disgusting to me. Sure, grab that. Get it out. I would be happy to donate that one. That I didn’t purchase. No. Oh, don’t even think about it. Stay away from the fruit cocktail. Although, I really only endured the weird slimy grapes in hopes of the rare slice of a marachino cherry.

Yuck. I hated mushrooms as a child so I can imagine nothing more disgusting than eating a bowl of creamed mushroom soup. Or sitting at the table while every sibling left and I chose “not to eat it” and have a staring contest with my luke-warm milk. It always won. In a household of nine, with a mother who practically made everything from scratch, a couple cans of cream of mushroom soup missing surely would go unnoticed. Besides, it was all that I could offer in my last minute canned food drive efforts. Unfortunately, my home room was not going to benefit from my half-ass scrounging around.

I understand that my heart was in the vicinity of the right place as a child. I have learned and grown more as an adult who cooks. I know that Cream of Mushroom soup needs help or rather, it’s not a solo dish. It’s more of a canned good utility player. You’ve got to add it to green beans or hash browns or a million other things to make a casserole stick together or stand out. Well, as much as a casserole can.

I think I had a point with this blog. But I lost it somewhere in the fruit cocktail. With my marachino cherry.

Oh. Yeah. I think God nudges us to do better when we know better. I think he sees us as children, constantly developing, growing and maturing in our faith. I think he probably thought it was pretty cute that I wanted to give Cream of Mushroom soup as a kid. But I think he might tell me to head back to the pantry, as an adult, if I tried to pull some Cream of Mushroom soup shenanigans. Don’t justify it. Just don’t. You know better. So act accordingly. Go to the grocery store and buy some good stuff. The kind of stuff you would want to serve your guests. That’s what I picture God instilling in my grown-up thoughts and my heart. It’s about sacrificing more. Making a conscious effort. Going out of my way. It’s about forgetting about doing something for a pizza party or a high five. It’s about truly loving a complete stranger in the same way that I would love my best friends.

I think I do have some friends that would come over and eat Cream of Mushroom soup with me. But that’s another blog.

In the meantime, who wants to come over for some hash brown or green bean casserole? As it turns out, we’ve got a lot of Cream of Mushroom soup.