Cooking

Cooking for me started as a chore, became a joy, moved onto a therapy, and is now (most of the time fun)

When I first got married I was a jar kinda girl. Kanton was my dear and sweet friend. I can't quite pin point what changed it- the cool and exciting gadgets that sat on our wedding present table- calling out for use? The ever appreciative hubby who decided for some reason I still haven't figured out that I am the best cook in the world (so much easy to cook when you get appreciation)? The not so healthy wish that rose up in me to be a domestic goddess like I believed all my other married friends were? But somehow I started to take it seriously and discovered in the process that I loved it.

Then I started working in ministry- and cooking became a kind of life line. Why? I didn't figure it out at first, but then I read a book or heard a talk or something from someone who had started ministry and developed a great love of woodwork. Ministry for him, and for me- was one of those strange occupations where there are no output targets, no reports due in that are accepted or rejected. Yes, you could get to the end of a Bible study and say- that was a good Bible study or that was a bad Bible study but it's not really the point. Ministry is about people, about loving people and showing them Christ- and what they do with it, well that's actually not your part of it. It is open ended and uncertain- and it's often long after you've finished that you actually find out what impact you have had.

So in that world- I needed cooking. I needed a recipe to follow. I needed a task that took half an hour to 45 minutes and had a result, either it was burnt or it wasn't, either Tim wanted to me to cook it again or leave it off the menu forever. There was something so wonderful about that and in the first 6 months of ministry it was a bit of a lifeline.

I was reminded of these things watching Julie and Julia. This movie (which was great by the way- so nice to see a movie that was so positive about what marriage can be!) carried similar sentiments as Julie realised how special cooking was to her, that no matter how hard or awful her day had been, she could always come home and cook. It was a certainty and a joy.

And I still love cooking, even though now I am more used to ministry, more used to trusting God with the unknown, and better able to judge my efforts on my faithfulness rather than on my results. I am also more aware that when God in his kindness and goodness changes some one's heart, it has very little to do with me and so much more to do with him.

But it is still nice to come home to my temperamental stove, my 100s of cooking magazines, and my pantry full of spices- and know exactly what I'm getting into.
love B