(Note: This is the last post of the month. I’m headed to Israel – whoop! – so get ready for an upgrade in the blog material, come April! And in the meantime, if you’ve not yet picked a March Madness team, please cheer for the ‘Hoos!) 🏀
If you’ve been around this blog for awhile, you know I’m no Pioneer Woman. Sure, I’ll share a recipe tip now and then, but I tend to not be all that precise.
Which can lead to a situation, sometimes.
Like the time our son asked me to text him the recipe for his favorite birthday meal, Mac-n-Cheese-n-Peas-n-Fleas. (Don’t ask.) Robbie was working and living at a skate park at the time, and he fixed the dish for a bunch of his co-workers:
You can read the story (and get the recipe, although I don’t recommend it) here. Longtime readers may recall my confusion when Robbie told me that one girl had “freaked out” when she saw him putting the hamburger fat back into the pasta pot.
“You did what?” I asked.
“Added the fat. Like you said to.”
Now, I definitely did NOT intend for Robbie to pour the fat back in, but to prove his point, Robbie sent a screenshot of my instructions:
Normally, I am more precise with my pronouns.
But I share this story today to help explain why, even with a CLEAR recipe, I can find myself at a loss in the kitchen.
For instance, I’m smack in the middle of Kelly Minter’s Bible study on 2 Corinthians, which is called All Things New. Kelly is as Scripture-smart as she is camera-cute (I can’t decide if she should sell toothpaste or shampoo?), and I am learning a ton about things like finding purpose in suffering, being useful to God, and navigating less-than-easy relationships.
Kelly is also, apparently, a pretty good cook. And she shares a new recipe to go with the homework each week. Which is how I wound up making her Sausage and Butternut Squash Risotto.
In the interest of transparency, I will go ahead and tell you that I had no idea what a “butternut squash” even looked like. I grew up in a home where we ate frozen peas, canned green beans, and (if it happened to be summertime) corn on the cob. Vegetable-wise, that was it.
Nor did I know that the thing would be so hard to cut.
Or that it would be infested with seeds.
(And if you are wondering WHY I am including these pix, it’s because my mom reads this blog, and she’s in my Bible study. And if she ever decides to make Kelly’s risotto, I want her to know what’s new in the vegetable world. Or the fruit world, cuz of the seeds. Whatever.)
Forty-five minutes later (and I am not making that up), I had the squash cubed. I felt super accomplished, so I took a pic and texted it to my pal Annabelle, who leads a small group at our study. “I’m making Kelly’s recipe!” I crowed. “It’s taking a long time, and I nearly sliced off my hand, but it’s going to be SO GOOD!”
Here’s what she texted me back:
All of which is to say: We can’t do life alone. WE NEED EACH OTHER.
If you’re trying to cook, you might need an Annabelle. And if you’re trying to figure out why the Corinthians were so mean to Paul (and how he could love them so much, in return), you might need a Kelly.
Understanding the Bible can be tricky, sometimes. (Harder, even, than getting seeds out of squash.) We need teachers, people willing to do the hard digging to flesh out what the text really says. We need friends to help us process how the words relate to our lives. And we need the Holy Spirit to do what God promised he’d do: Teach us and remind us of what Jesus said.
And as we avail ourselves of these resources – wise teachers, good friends, and the help God himself will provide – even the hard stuff begins to add up. We’ll be able, as Psalm 34:8 so beautifully puts it, to “taste and see that the Lord is good.”
(And so, as it happens, is Kelly’s risotto.) 😊
