When we were little, Mom would let my siblings and I choose the menu for the family dinner on the evenings of our birthdays. Eventually we got old enough (and financially comfortable enough) that a night out at a favorite restaurant replaced the "pick your favorite foods" birthday. I missed those home-cooked celebrations, and still do.

BigSis always chose roast and rice and gravy, which in our family became known as "roasunriceungravy." BigBro's tastes were always unpredictable, but there would always be red meat involved. BabySis and BigSis could be counted upon to insist upon chocolate cake to end the meals, whatever their choices for entrees.

For me, it was always about hamburgers, fries, cowboy beans (a story for another day), and apple pie. Always. Every year. Boring? Never! Sometimes I had relish, sometimes not; sometimes mayo and mustard, sometimes just mustard. The choices were endless. Who could find that boring?

My birthday is sometime in the next 60 days, so my choices also fit the time of year, a burgeoning summer in Bayou City...and if we had to combine my B-Day celebration with some surrounding national or Hallmark holiday, the meal still fit.

Well, I think I'm gonna be changing my order.

I spent this week in a lovely Midwestern City with 14 colleagues, preachers all, who had gathered to share research, insights, random thoughts, well meaning inSULTS, and a whole lot of food, drink and laughter.

Fed by the Word, fed by good company, fed by simple communal worship, fed by the very idea that we could get together and do this, fed by great cooks and gracious hosts, fed by the Master Chef. By any measure, we did far more than share a snack.

We've committed to gather again next year, again in the season that comes near my natal day.

By the time my birthday comes around next year, I'm fairly certain I'll have already had my new favorite meal. Yum!