Being an introvert is like being a tortilla. We look simple and straight forward, but really we are deep and complex. Plus, we somehow end up holding everything together in this great big burrito world. Don’t worry, I really am going somewhere here.
When I was young there was this unspoken system. In place for hurts, sickness and sorrow. A system that never needed an explanation. Someone down the road went through something. Perhaps a death in the family, or horrible illness that confined them to stay in. Even for young moms recovering from the birth of their new baby. We knew what to do. Get in the kitchen. Bake up some muffins, toss a salad and cook a chicken pot pie. Food is healing on so many levels.