Bread and Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table with Recipes

by Shauna Niequist

I was all feasting and no fasting—all noise, connection, go; without rest, space, silence. I was all flash and text and motion, but inside I was so tired. I was so tired I could only hear really loud music and taste really strong flavors—more, more, more. Intensity, intensity, intensity. At one event, I licked the icing off a cupcake right as I walked onstage to speak, mouth full of sugar and butter as I walked up the steps to the podium. I lost my manners and lost my ability to slow down. What I’m finding is that when I’m hungry, lots of times what I really want more than food is an external voice to say, “You’ve done enough. It’s OK to be tired. You can take a break. I’ll take care of you. I see how hard you’re trying.” There is, though, no voice that can say that except the voice of God. The work I’m doing now is to let those words fall deeply on me, to give myself permission to be tired, to be weak, to need.