Paul doesn’t always enjoy coming food shopping with me, in fact he tends to head straight for the cafe. It is in part because I can stand looking at the range of choices over a particular product and not be able to make my mind up.
However, that I have choices is in part an illusion – there are, for example, a small array of apples that I might choose most of the time (with a few seasonal exceptions) – largely well known varieties, often imported and looking fairly uniform. The other weekend we went to Hanbury Hall in Worcestershire and there were lots of apples I’d never heard of in a tent and you could buy a bag and try all sorts, some of which went back to Victorian times. I ate one of these – attracted by the religious name no doubt. As in many areas others limit my choices and these decisions impact others – I don’t need uniformly shaped fruit and vegetables – taste is what matters. I am concerned about what gets discarded because it doesn’t fit the image – we are stewards of what God has given and much of it is like me, a little flawed and blemished but still worth a try.