If your family is like mine, the kitchen is the central gathering place. The kitchen, for us, is for eating, learning, and dialoging over the day’s events. Whether big or small, crowded or uncrowded, your kitchen is what you make it to be.
Regardless of whether your meals are eaten at home, your kitchen holds your hard-earned ingredients and staples to feed your family. It holds the nutrients to keep your body, your husband, and your children healthy and full.
Just like the rich words that are spoken from Jesus, who is the Bread of Life, do you ever find yourself desiring to offer a fulfilling place for one’s soul to be fed? Can someone really “taste and see that the Lord is good” in your own kitchen?
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.
John 6:35 ESV
In Jesus’ kindness, we get to enjoy temporary pleasures that satisfy our simple cravings. For me, it’s chick-fil-a fries. But through Jesus’ compassion on His people, we are given everything we need. We’re not chained to the never-ending hunger this world discretely offers. We’re given the true “bread of life.” When we have Jesus, we have never-ending love, joy, and peace. We’re not left hungry for something that will never come. We’re continually given something – someone- who has come and abides in the hearts of those who love Him.
Growing up in the kitchen
Growing up, my family always had an extremely busy schedule due to work, sports, and extracurricular activities. We typically didn’t get home until late at night, and we often found ourselves scrounging around in the kitchen for something to eat.
Thankfully, my mother was a magician when it came to whipping something together out of the simple ingredients we had. While she cooked, we would discuss the joys and frustrations of the day, sing our hearts out because the acoustics were always strongest in the kitchen, and weep over the unmet expectations of either a relationship or the difficulties of being a teenage girl.
I never went hungry in my home, and I still never
Shattered pieces
I also remember spending a lot of time with my grandmother in her kitchen when she would make big breakfasts for my family when we’d visit. She’d let me sit on the counter and help her mix blueberries into her homemade waffle mix, letting me lick the spoon to my heart’s content (and probably praying I wouldn’t get salmonella poisoning from the uncooked eggs inside).
One specific memory with my grandmother when I accidentally broke one of her (culturally popular) flowery, blue-rimmed Corelle bowls on her tiled floor. Did your grandparents own any of those? I was mortified! Through tears of embarrassment over something that I thought was important to my short, Hungarian grandmother, she encouraged my heart by saying that it really wasn’t a big deal. Smiling, she immediately took another bowl from the cabinet, examined the beauty of the crafted piece, and threw it to the ground. Watching yet another bowl shatter to pieces on the floor, I was astonished that she would waste a good bowl on a point she was trying to make. But a good lesson it was for me that day. She said, “Do you really think the dishes are what’s most important to me? These bowls are replaceable. My family is not.”
A legacy worth passing on
I desire to create a joyous space in my kitchen for my family when they need comfort. When they need advice. Or for just a simple meal.
Currently, my kitchen floor hosts a lovely arrangement of wooden food items courtesy of my one-year-old. The counters have streaks of cherry jam from lunch. And echoes of the song “Hampster Banana” is still ringing about from our dance party an hour ago.
I’ve never been confident in my cooking abilities or planning weekly meals, but my children always come back for more. More dancing and singing. Snow-gazing through the windows. Playing chase around the island.
I’m no chef, that’s for sure. But I hope to help satisfy my family’s desires the way the Lord satisfies my soul when I invite him to be Lord over my day.
