In French, God Is Delicious
Stephanie Rousselle
4 min read ⭑
I remember attending a service at my Parisian home church as a brand-new Christian. The love emanating from believers around me was intriguing but foreign. It enthralled my spiritual senses but felt just outside my reach. They delighted deeply in the Lord through worship, Scripture intake and interactions with one another. Knowing how beloved they were, they loved God and one another well in return. Could I, too, awaken such divine delight? How could I taste and see God like that?
“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Ps. 37:4, ESV). How can we taste and see these inviting, rich flavors from Psalm 37:4 as our daily reality? What would happen if we dared to embrace the truth that we’re created to be enthralled by the beauty of God’s presence, both today and in heaven?
Scripture invites us to experience God’s goodness as deeply satisfying, even delectable: “Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!” (Ps. 34:8, ESV). Can we attest to this? When we come away from our experience of church, prayer, worship, Bible study, serving in his name or our own time alone with God, do we feel satiated with his goodness? Do we feel nourished, spiritually speaking?
Or are we left wondering if we’ve been feeding on scraps?
Chris Lynch; Unsplash
The abandon of my fellow Parisian congregants seemed a little scary, maybe even suspicious — at least for yours truly, a then-20-year-old control freak. I suspected God might require more surrender than I was comfortable embracing. It’s often not enough to be told that something’s good for us; sometimes we need to taste it. Experience engages our minds in a way that transforms us and makes us hunger for more of what God has for us.
So, one day I finally dared to ask God to make me delight in him so much it would redefine my identity. I wanted to taste the full buffet of spiritual flavors these Parisian believers obviously enjoyed. Thirty years later, while I’m still slowly learning, he’s answering that prayer. What a gift! I bow in humble worship, overwhelmed with gratitude and awestruck by his goodness and faithfulness. Delight in him is increasingly becoming my reality, and I’m hungry for more. When we delight in him, he does give us the desire of our heart — himself.
Delight. It’s one of those rare words that exudes more depth and deliciousness in French than in English. As a native French speaker, I love the French word for delight: délice. It’ll remind you of another English word: delicious. In French, we have only one word for the two English words “delight” and “deliciousness”: délice. It applies to any feast for the body, mind or spirit, where beauty reigns supreme. In French, Psalm 37:4 speaks of delicious delight when it calls us to delight in the Lord: “Fais de l’Éternel tes délices.” Délice is delight and deliciousness both. The poetic beauty is inescapable: In French, God is both delightful and delicious.
So, when Psalm 34:8 beckons us to “taste and see that the LORD is good,” we’re invited to discover that the goodness of the Lord is, indeed, delicious. So, what does delight in God taste like? I wonder if, when we aim to make God our delight, we also aim to taste his deliciousness, spiritually speaking. The presence of God is flavorful. The love of God is intoxicating. The glory of God is enthralling. Can it be our experience?
“I invite us, together, to make God our delight — our delicious delight. Let’s explore how our faith can be transformed when we approach and experience God as delicious and delightful both. ”
Scripture doesn’t call us to a disembodied experience of God. Feasting on the Lord is for our five senses as well as for our soul. We expose our faith to much loss when we dissociate what God has woven together in our bodies through our senses. In a culture that has lost its spiritual taste buds, God invites us to recover Christ-centered spiritual delight in him.
The Table Is Set
Speaking of food as a pathway to awaken delight in God might feel irrelevant, shallow or maybe even undignified. Not so in my French culture, where I was brought up to enjoy the sights, scents, textures and tastes of food as approximations to spiritual experiences. I may have grown up radically atheist, but my culture gives food a spiritual dimension. Tasting and seeing do lead to knowing goodness.
This isn’t true only of my hedonistic French culture. Scripture overflows with mystical and metaphorical associations regarding food. The deep mysteries of our Christian faith are rooted in embodied things that speak to our five senses, like salt and light, bread and wine, fish and loaves, lamb and bitter herbs, olive oil and frankincense. The Lord’s Table beckons us to eat his flesh and drink his blood (John 6:53-54). We look forward to an upcoming wedding feast (John 2:1), a banquet of rich meat and aged wine (Isa. 25:6).
So, as a French Christian, I invite us, together, to make God our delight — our delicious delight. Let’s explore how our faith can be transformed when we approach and experience God as delicious and delightful both. He invites us to taste and see him so that he’ll give us the desire of our heart — himself. We’ll discover he adds the blessing of delighting in one another too.
The invitation has been sent. Together, let’s take a seat around Scripture, the best table that’s ever been assembled for our enjoyment and delight and for the glory of God.
Stephanie Rousselle is the founder of Gospel Spice Ministries. Born and raised in France, she’s a wife, mom, podcaster, public speaker, Bible teacher, former women’s ministry director and strategy consultant. Stephanie thrives on Bible-centered inspirational writing, speaking and dark chocolate. She’s been teaching Scripture to thousands over the last 20 years in France, the U.K., Africa and the U.S., and now on all six continents through the Gospel Spice Podcast. Follow her on Facebook and Instagram.
Taken from “Awaken Delight” by Stephanie Rousselle. Copyright © 2026. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press.
