Those who follow my posts here or elsewhere on social media cannot fail to notice that I am a reluctant cook. Some people really enjoy, spending hours creating delightful dishes that get demolished in minutes and then spend ages clearing away of the carnage afterwards. My view - what a waste of time!
Since my husband has retired, we have slowly made the transition from me doing 100% of the cooking, to him taking on about 40%. In fairness he also makes the bread. During the last week the bulk of the cooking has once more fallen to me, as somehow my husband has managed to be in the middle of some urgent maintenance when it was time to cook our main meal. He thinks I don't notice... So I ended up cooking. Again. In fairness to him, he did put the meat in the slow cooker this morning. Reluctantly, but knowing it was the right thing to do, I started cooking, while to be honest, feeling rather irritated....
"Here I am again, Lord. cooking! Again! Why does it always end up this way? Cooking is so trivial, why do we bother?....I mean did Jesus ever cook? He may have been involved in miracles concerning food, but usually others did the work. The nearest thing I normally experience with a miracle is if the end result is vaguely edible...."
You will see from the picture that this was not the most exciting meal - and of you are snobby about food then this is not the place for you. The meal consisted of what was in the fridge. If, upon reading this, you feel an overwhelming desire to criticise the presentation, or the selection of beef in red wine with cheesy mash and veg, then you have missed the point. This is not about our menu, rather this is about what I realised about myself from my cheesy mash. Dear reader I have a confession to make. Recently mashed potato has been the innocent victim of my human weakness - mash too soon and you get lumps no self respecting potato masher can rectify. Mash too late and your mash becomes mush! I have been guilty of both of these crimes. Today I thought I am NOT going to be impatient, or careless. I will not rush, or get distracted, and I didn't. The result was the best mash I have cooked in ages! My patience was rewarded. So I come back to the fruit of the spirit and to patience, and the realisation that the Holy Spirit is at work in the small and insignificant things that I did not value. If your cooking is always wonderful, great - but don't feel superior. This is never about point scoring, it is about our eyes being opened, and our hearts being transformed - seeing the Holy Spirit at work in our lives, noticing, and feeling the quiet joy and peace when when do. I wonder what fruit of the spirit I will observe in myself next, and how many years it will take for me to notice!