WARNING: Although a little sketchy in the details, no one was harmed in this story.
This time of year usually means more time in the kitchen. You might find yourself hosting or taking a dish to share. Maybe you’re known for the “best” deviled eggs or the unmatched oyster dressing. Perhaps you claim no apron-donning skills and are relegated to the never-fail veggie tray. Regardless, I think it’s highly likely that you’ll be able to make a connection to what I’m about to say.
For many years I enjoyed doing simple things in the kitchen that could be a gift to someone else. It might have been a batch of cookies or even a meatloaf with mashed potatoes and a veggie. But my absolute favorite? The thing that for some reason hit deep in my heart and made an emotional connection? A loaf of warm banana bread with a perfectly crispy topping of sugar. I especially enjoyed delivering that specimen of perfection to a new family that moved into the neighborhood. Just a simple gesture to say “welcome”.
Things were fine and dandy. I was at a time in my life that on the surface seemed normal (when compared to some of the previous chaos I had lived in). And on this particular day, I was sitting on my front porch doing some writing. (SURPRISE!) The sunshine and sky were gorgeous and the air was warm. The neighborhood was quiet and not one car had driven by.
The house across the street had been empty for as long as I had lived there. But we were hearing rumors that someone was moving in ~ soon! So in my mind, I had already baked the banana bread and planned my ascent to the porch for delivery. I was sure it would be well-received.
You know the problem with plans, right? More often than not we make plans without any real consideration for how God is involved. And then BAM! He comes around the corner to remind us that He’s in control. And on that bright, sunny day He came around the corner and parked a big truck in front of that house. And out of that truck stepped someone I knew and someone I didn’t like. At all!
I’d like to tell you that this is where the story ended. I’d write that I made the decision to not make or deliver the banana bread. I just stayed on my porch and in the house and opted out. But that neglects the truth and the lesson God was preparing for me.
I spent months watching the new neighbors move in boxes and furniture. They planted flowers, too, I think; the usual functions of settling in. All the while, I’m on my porch, pen in hand, sorting through all the feelings and emotions that have taken over. In case you aren’t reading between the lines, these feelings and emotions are far from “love your neighbor”. As a matter of fact, I was even trying to figure out if there was a way to make the banana bread that would give them short-term “discomfort”. (Maybe 24 hours of running frantically to the nearest bathroom.) Now listen, before you start freaking out, I’ll ruin the suspense by telling you that I’m now friends with these people. But for an extended period of time I battled some real, raw anger that was actually unforgiveness. Years of trauma and hurt were buried deep in my heart and had taken root.
Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that I woke up suddenly one day and saw what God was doing in me. I’m a slow learner and I generally bury myself countless times before I emerge from the pit into the light. But thankfully I serve a God who keeps the river of grace rushing over me. Pastor Kris reminded us on Sunday that we just need to turn around and see it.
So as I complete my list of things to do before we travel to Grundy for Thanksgiving, I’m reminded of how much I have to be thankful for; too many to list. But at the top of the list is this: Because of Jesus, I can make banana bread without being angry.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, my apron is waiting and the oven timer just went off.
Colossians 2:6-7 ~ Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.