Since I no longer believe in coincidence, I’m wondering what God is inviting me to see, not only in the sudden spate of movies glorifying food, but because this morning’s kitchen adventure soon became an especially contemplative exercise.
I’ve been cooking—and eating—for many years. I was raised by foodies who entered cooking competitions on weekends. My mother (The Gourmand) vs. my father (The Short Order Cook)—grab your ingredients and claim your burners…on the same stove. In our suburban kitchen. Perhaps, I’m being called to remember that in a marriage broken enough to eventually collapse, there was still joy to be found in cooking for a family with many hungers.
Another memory: walking into divorce court nearly a decade ago, my soon-to-be-ex husband looked me in the eyes and said quite wistfully, “I miss the meals.” Perhaps, I’m being called to remember that great cooking could not sustain a marriage that was spiritually depleted.
With time, cooking for friends would heal and reveal more about the meaning of nourishment; that time is now. Thanks be to God.
Photo: What was cooking while I wrote this post!