Uncategorized

A Recipe’s Story

It was an ordinary Sunday morning in the Spring of 2012. I was moving through the commons area of our church when he flagged me down.

“Get some paper and pen,” he said.

No need to argue with him. He had that I’m-up-to-something twinkle in his eye. We sat and he wrote. Little did I know I was the middle girl in the game they’d been playing for some time now. This Sunday morning was his check mate finish.

You see, every time they crossed paths my hubby would ask him for his infamous bean recipe. Each time he shrugged and dodged the sharing of his secret. But that day was the day. He scratched the recipe out on the back of the youth newsletter, and we laughed at the way he duped my hubby yet again.

Of course my better half was none to happy as he walked in and saw what was up. “I’ve been asking you for the recipe for months,” he exclaimed.

He chuckled, “She’s prettier than you are.”

Yep, that was K-Rock as we affectionately called him. Full of fun and games. The one who introduced me to tomato pie in the isle of the local grocery store, and hugged me every Sunday morning.

Last week my hubby made the bean recipe it took him months to get. Sunday they discussed how we were still enjoying the leftovers. Just one day later, we heard he was gone.

I’ve cherished the hen scratched recipe since the day he gave it to me.  It’s so much more than something to file away in a box. The story is what I treasure most.

Who begins a recipe with their kitchen motto? Kenneth, that’s who!

19215F9F-B9C2-46DA-81C5-8F7F2C2C1857

His words remind me when it comes to serving God, moderation is not an option. Nothing less that full surrender is worthy of the infant king lying in the manger.

The miracle of Christmas isn’t a miracle unless it points us to death and resurrection. No, the cross isn’t easy to stomach, but from it God claims, You’re worth it! Nothing less than overcoming death will do.

This week he completed his story. Sunday I’ll pass the place we sat as he wrote. I’ll miss those Sunday morning greeting hugs, and the twinkle in his eyes. Yet, a part of him lives on in me. Because  when the road gets tough and I find it hard to stomach what the world dishes out I’ll recite his motto and with a deep breath whisper…

“Ok. Here we go!”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s