Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | RSS

Have you ever noticed how little our tastes change over time? The foods we loved as children often become lifelong favorites, not because they are the best for us, but because they are familiar. Could the same thing be happening in our spiritual lives? Find out in today’s message.

I grew up in a small town in northern Ohio where canned vegetables were not just something we ate, they were part of who we were. Norwalk was home to one of the major Stokely Van Camp plants, and during my childhood it felt like everyone either worked there, had worked there, or was related to someone who did. Both of my grandparents worked at Stokely’s. My grandfather spent fifty-three years there as a mechanic, and when he first started, he was literally driving a team of horses, hauling vegetables from the fields to be canned. My grandmother worked there too. For our family, and for many families in town, Stokely’s was not just a place of employment. It was a way of life.

Like so many young people in town, my parents both worked at Stokely’s when they were starting out. In fact, that is where they met. The plant was just down the street from where we lived, and on many days you did not need a calendar to know what season it was. You could tell by the smell in the air. If they were canning sauerkraut, the entire town knew it. If it was peas or corn, that smell drifted through open windows and into daily life. As kids, we did not think twice about it. That was simply how life smelled.

Because of that, I grew up eating canned vegetables and loving them. Peas were, and still are, my favorite.  As an adult, I am fully aware that canned vegetables lose much of their nutritional value. I know fresh or frozen is better for us. But taste is not just about food. It is about memory, habit, and what we have been formed to love over time. I never really acquired a taste for fresh peas. I acquired a taste for canned ones.

The other evening, my wife and I were sitting down to a very ordinary meal consisting of pork chops, fried potatoes, and canned peas. As I was eating, enjoying that familiar taste I have known my entire life, something quietly stirred in me. It was one of those moments that seems insignificant at first but refuses to leave you alone. By the time dinner was over, I realized I had been handed a small but meaningful spiritual insight.

There is nothing wrong with canned peas. I enjoy them. I always have. I am comfortable with them, and at this point in my life, I am probably not going to change. In the grand scheme of things, that is harmless. But comfort and habit have a way of quietly taking over without asking permission. We do what we have always done because it is what we have always done, and we become quite content to leave it there.

That realization led me to a question worth sitting with: if we were to honestly examine our lives, can we easily see areas of our spiritual life where we have become complacent? Are there places where habit has replaced intention, where comfort has taken the place of growth?

Jesus was gentle and compassionate, but He was never interested in leaving people settled into spiritual comfort. Again and again, He disrupted routines, assumptions, and religious habits that had grown too familiar. Not because prayer, worship, or devotion were bad, but because familiarity can quietly convince us that we no longer need to grow.

Jesus once said, “No one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins, and it will be spilled, and the skins will be ruined.” (Luke 5:37)

The problem was not the wineskins. The problem was that they could no longer hold something new.

When habits remain in the kitchen, they are just habits. But when habits settle into our spiritual life, they can slowly dull our hunger. We pray the way we have always prayed. We pray for the same amount of time, in the same way, with the same expectations. We attend worship faithfully, but without asking whether God might be inviting us deeper. None of this makes us unfaithful. It simply makes us human.

Faith was never meant to be canned. It was meant to be living, growing, stretching, and renewing us over time. Growth rarely happens in comfort. It happens when we allow God to gently examine our routines and ask whether they are still helping us become who we are called to be.

The invitation here is not to discard what has shaped us, but to be open to what God may want to do next. Sometimes that invitation comes in the most ordinary moments, even over a plate of pork chops, fried potatoes, and canned peas.

Heavenly Father, I thank You for meeting me in the ordinary moments of my life. Gently show me where comfort has replaced growth, and where habit has taken the place of desire. Give me the courage to examine my spiritual routines with honesty and humility. Lead me beyond what is familiar and into the deeper life You desire for me, so that my faith continues to grow, stretch, and bear fruit. Amen.

AMDG 

AMDG is a Latin abbreviation for “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,” which means “For the Greater Glory of God.”

 I always love to hear from you. You can email me by clicking here.

Please take a moment to share your thoughts about today’s message below.

If you are in the vicinity, please join us on March 14th at St. Anthony of Padua Catholic Church for a LENTEN RETREAT. Click the link for more details. 

Click here for details.

• Author
• Recent Posts

Brian Pusateri

Brian is a Christian author and speaker. Brian, a lifelong Catholic, felt his life was forever changed when God spoke to his heart while attending an eight day silent Christian retreat in November of 2011. Soon after that retreat Brian founded 4th Day Letters and Broken Door Ministries. With the God inspired message of mercy and unconditional love that was placed on his heart during that retreat, Brian has been impacting others all over the country and around the world with his weekly letters, his talks, and his all day Christian retreats. In June of 2014, Brian’s life was again impacted in a very dramatic way when his eyesight suddenly became permanently impaired. The initial diagnosis was Multiple Scleroses (MS) but in December of 2019 the diagnosis was corrected to MOG antibody disease, a rare neurological disease. This health challenge has only served to draw Brian closer to God and bolster the importance of this timely yet ageless message.

Latest posts by Brian Pusateri (see all)

• Canned Peas - February 1, 2026
• Do We Know Who We Are? - January 24, 2026
• When Everything Collapses At Once – The Destructive Power of Addiction - January 19, 2026