Last night, I had dinner out with my wife. For most people, that might not sound unusual. But for me, it was extraordinary. My body now depends on a G-tube for nourishment, and my only oral allowance is sipping liquids. Still, we needed a night out of the house. I did not expect a miracle — only companionship.
And yet, I received one.
A small piece of bread, dipped in olive oil and several herbs or spices, touched my lips. An amazing taste — the first in over eighteen months. It was surreal, almost indescribable. In that instant, flavor became revelation. What most would call ordinary became, for me, an experience of pure joy. It was as if heaven had brushed against earth in a simple act of eating.
The ACIM Connection
A Course in Miracles reminds us: “The holy instant is this instant and every instant. The one you want it to be. It is the recognition that all minds are in communication. It is the moment in which you would remember love and only love.” (T-15.IV.1:4-6)
That small taste of bread was not about food. It was a holy instant. A moment of remembering. For months I have been limited to the routines of survival, but in that bite, I remembered life is more than survival. Life is an extension of God’s love, given without condition, waiting to be recognized.
Job lost everything he feared to lose, and in the story his restoration came not from his effort, but from grace. In my own way, I tasted that truth — literally. I had done nothing to earn or deserve that moment. It was simply given. Grace always is.
The Deeper Lesson
A Course in Miracles says, “God’s will for me is perfect happiness.” (W-101) Happiness is not postponed until my body is healed, or until circumstances line up perfectly. Happiness can be tasted now — even in a crumb of bread dipped in oil.
What struck me most was not the sensation on my tongue, but the realization of how much I had missed tasting, and how easily I had forgotten the simple joy it once brought. ACIM teaches that we live in a kind of amnesia, having forgotten the joy of Heaven. But even the smallest reminder — a taste, a smile, a quiet moment — can call us back to memory.
That bread was more than food; it was a symbol. It said to me: “You are not deprived. God’s gifts have never left you. You need only receive.”
Bringing It Forward
I may or may not be able to enjoy solid food again. That is not the point. What matters is that joy is never absent. Grace shows up in forms we can recognize — sometimes through taste, sometimes through touch, sometimes through silence.
The miracle is not in the bread itself, but in the recognition that I am cared for, loved, and never forgotten by God. ACIM calls this shift in perception a miracle: “Miracles are natural. When they do not occur something has gone wrong.” (T-1.I.6:1-2) Last night, something went wonderfully right.
Closing Thought
One crumb of bread, dipped in oil, became a feast of remembrance. It reminded me that no matter how limited the body seems, Spirit is unlimited. Grace will find its way to us, even in the smallest of ways, and whisper, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”
robert@dinojamesbooks.com