This plate hangs over a perpetual pile of dirty dishes in the same kitchen I grew up in. Decades have passed, and it is among the few relics left of a bygone era. I've never really paid much attention to it. I'd just clean it and move it once in awhile. On the way back from the coffee pot, I stopped and read it. Then I cried.
“Bless my little kitchen, Lord, I love its every nook.”
I was shamed from the first line. I thought of a time when we were homeless –
no kitchen at all. Then another kitchen
that was so small only one person could be in it at a time. There was also a beautiful, spacious country
kitchen that was lost to foolishness.
To love is to commit, and I am not committed to my
kitchen. I’m hardly in there, and when I
am I feel anything but love for it. I am
critical of its condition, disheartened by our inability to get the necessary
renovations done, and anxious when funds and food are running low.
Ouch.
“And bless me as I do my work, wash pots and pans and cook.”
I work full time now, and
I often think,
If only…
I got up earlier and stayed up later to clean, work on it, etc....
I worked harder to make more money to cover the cost of the
renovations…
I could cut our expenses a little more…
I realized that my work is not in
my kitchen right now. I am working for my kitchen – my employment will see
me through the payoff of this house and fund the repairs in time.
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Another relic |
“May the meals that I prepare, be seasoned from above.”
I don’t do a lot of cooking since I’m not home. I do,
however, stock the shelves and prepare the menu. These two tasks in themselves are tiresome
and frustrating. When we are low on
funds and food though, I am thankful when provision comes. What if I went to the store with a sense of
gratitude every time? What if I took better care of God’s
provision: less waste, a better plan for menus, gardening, and food preservation? What if I spent the energy it takes to be
stressed and discouraged on planning instead? Our health and home is suffering because of
my ingratitude and selfishness.
What was
that about a foolish woman plucking down her house with her own hands?
“With thy blessing and thy grace, but most of all thy love.”
My baby Grace…my blessing (one of them) from above. She is the one who feeds the hungry in our
home. She is the light of our kitchen –
the kitchen I am ashamed of and have neglected.
Grace faithfully cooks our meals, cleans the kitchen, and teaches the
younger ones to do the same. She will
have no trouble taking care of herself someday – a day that is far too
close.
How will she see her future kitchen?
“As we partake of earthly food, the table Thou hast spread,”
I’ve been feeding my family preservatives, chemicals, dyes,
hormones, bacteria-feeding sugar, and ingredients that I can’t spell or pronounce.
What. Am. I. Thinking??
“We’ll not forget to thank Thee Lord, for all our daily bread.”
I guess It’s not truly gratitude to thank Him for our provision then
use it to purchase health problems and complain about the means of acquiring
it, is it?
Humble pie, anyone?
“So bless my little kitchen, Lord, and those who enter in,”
Please do so, Lord, despite my foolishness…
“May they find naught but joy and peace, and happiness therein.”
I want a kitchen that brings nourishment and joy to all it
serves inside its walls – and out. It
doesn’t have to be magazine ready to do that.
It needs my attitude to change.
My new Kitchen Creed:
Welcome to my kitchen.
Humble it may be.
But nourishment and joy
Will everyone receive.
My kitchen,
It is truly blessed.
And I hope that you will see,
What makes it
A blissful place to be
Is you,
My guest,
And the Joy that is within me.