“If you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger.” – Kahlil Gibran
Monday 13 June 2016
I love food.
Beautiful food. Street food. Food served in one pot at the stove. Food served on the fancy plates for special occasions.
I’m especially fond of food with childhood memories as the main ingredient. And of course foods that compel us to break out bubbles, candles and sparklers are in their own special category.
Food nourishes us body and soul. It connects to our story here on earth. Food helps us to celebrate, nurture and grieve. Some days, there are no words. All we know to do, is show up with a chocolate bar or a casserole and all the hugs and tissues in the land.
Many years ago, when I was a young inexperienced mother, a friend shared her practice of praying as she was ironing. Each piece of clothing that she ironed was a catalyst for blessings over family members. Tablecloths were invitations to pray over gatherings and freshly pressed pillowcases became prayers for peace and restful sleep.
I wasn’t much for ironing. I’m more likely to throw a wrinkled shirt in the dryer with a damp washcloth than break out the ironing board. But I did transfer the practice to the kitchen.
Food became prayer and blessing.
I purposed to not approach my kitchen with resentment or obligation. Who wants to eat bread leavened with anger? I envision adding love and joy to every dish.
My husband makes my coffee almost every morning. It’s one of the ways I know I’m loved. What makes it even more special is that he isn’t a coffee drinker; he simply knows I like to start the day with good cup of black coffee. He heads downstairs before me and makes preparation. I’m pretty sure that he brews that coffee in love and that’s why it tastes so good.
As my children usher their friends in the front door, I often hear, “Oh, by the way, she’s going to feed you…”
Yes, I will. I will feed you all the blessing and joy this home has to give.