A Little More Love And A Larger Bowl

This is what I started with: a relatively small bowl of anemic looking noodles. And we had twelve people coming over for supper in a matter of hours.

 

 

 

A dilemma, perhaps, but I pulled out my secret weapon:  a recipe for pasta salad casually shared with me after a church potluck supper forty years ago. The recipe, now almost indecipherable from age, has fed more people at our table than can be counted, including family get-togethers, out-of-town company, and home groups in every town where we've lived. 

The recipe does not call for special or exotic ingredients, but what waits patiently in the pantry and remains largely forgotten in the bottom refrigerator drawer.  We are all surrounded by small things, proximate and seemingly needless, yet never insignificant.

We tend to see the ordinary and familiar as dull and mundane. But what emerges are the elements of the sensational, simply because it is so unexpected.   

My grandmother, having lived through the first pandemic, two world wars, the Great Depression, widowhood, raising my mom single-handedly, and living on a shoe string most of her life, would look at a difficulty and say, "Now what can we do with that?"  Not a problem in her twinkling eyes, but an opportunity to get creative.  On so many levels, she could take a proverbial empty cupboard and turn it into a feast. Because she knew the little things count.

How can I see this situation differently?  also happens to be very biblical.

Facing a hungry mob on a hillside, the twelve disciples lacked any imagination at all.  ...for we are here in a desolate place. Luke 9. 12

Jesus didn't say, "Good luck with that problem. Try to think of something."  But He said, "What DO you have?"  He may have even chuckled a little under His breath. Now watch this!

And taking the five loaves and two fish, Jesus looked up to heaven and said a blessing over them...And what was left over was picked up, twelve baskets of broken pieces.  Luke 8. 16-17

What appeared as a desperate situation, God covered with His fundamental law of leftovers.  He provided not just enough, but more than enough.  And not by coincidence, supplied a gift BASKET of leftovers, for each one of those twelve doubting disciples.

What can we do with our own predicaments? Despise not the day of small things. Zechariah 4. 10   

God uses what we have and turns it into a feast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How can we change things up?  Add a little kindness to the conversation.  Pour in an overflowing cup of grace.  Visit, call, encourage and pray. Seize the opportunity to help someone.  Mix in the sweet and the savory.  Make use of a few orphaned vegetables at the bottom of the package. Finish off a partial bag of pepperoni's.  And oh, there's some feta way back on the fridge shelf.

God blesses.  God redeems. God multiplies.

And for those twelve hungry people who came to our table last week, we didn't just have enough.  We had more than enough.  Because that is how God's faithfulness works. What can I add to this situation?  A little more love.  And a larger bowl.

And one friend even went home with a container of leftovers. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because The Little Things Count Pasta Salad

Dressing

2/3 cup oil

1/3 cup white vinegar

1 tablespoon sugar

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon oregano

1 clove of garlic, minced

1/4 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

Mix all dressing items together and pour over the following ingredients:

Salad Mix  --(ingredients and amounts subject to what you have)

1 small package crumbled feta cheese -- or other cheese cut into small cubes

1 box rainbow spiral noodles, cooked and then chilled

1 cup raw broccoli florets

1 cup raw cauliflower, cut in bite-size pieces

1/2 cup raw carrots, sliced into coins

1 can pitted black olives

1 cup chopped celery

1 bell pepper chopped (any color)

1 small cucumber chopped

1 cup grape tomatoes (or 1 medium tomato chopped)

1 jar artichoke hearts cut up

Marinate the dressing and salad mix for 4 hours in the refrigerator

Optional protein:  Add grilled and sliced boneless chicken breasts

 

 

Where the Wild Things Are

A few days ago, my husband and I sought out the wonders of spring in the mountains.  A trail, historically a pilgrimage for wildflowers, was recommended to us.  We hiked all the way to the end of the trail and saw nothing green other than some winter-weary rhododendrons and some scraggly pines that were barely holding on.  It was a pleasant hike, but nothing shouted out of the ordinary.  Other than the mild temperature, the woods around us appeared to be stuck in the monotones of January.

On the way back to the trailhead and our truck, we spotted a small side trail that did not even appear on the map.  We hiked about a mile in, again a nice path, but where were the flowers?  A wildflower pilgrimage planned for next week might need to be rescheduled.

We returned home.  In the remaining afternoon daylight, Bill washed the vestiges of winter off our old truck.  And I headed into our barren yard, littered with branches and sticks from howling winter winds.  Time for spring cleanup.

And there, I saw them.

Under disintegrating leaves blown like snowdrifts against the large rocks and amidst large tree limbs crisscrossing the hill, wrestled down by icy storms, in the most unexpected places, I found wildflowers scattered all over the hillside.  I assumed there was nothing there.  And I almost missed them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wonders were already there, and I was just now discovering them.

In our comings and goings, our doings and done, the familiar and ordinary, God sometimes ignites a burning bush on our path to get our attention.  He reveals Himself in unexpected ways and in unlikely places.  And calls our names.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our grumbling and complaining blind us not just to the possibilities of so many wonders all around us but the actualities of which we are so unaware.  God has given each of us a patch of ground.  What do we find there?  Not so much wild flowers, but what God has already planted, nurturing throughout the seasons.  He surprises us with the evidence of His Presence and faithfulness all around us.  

These tiny unexpected flowers manifest hope.  Not the wishful thinking of the world, "Oh, everything will be ok." But the steadfast hope of God on whom we can stake our lives. This world is not so barren at all, but thriving and ready to burst forth.  Right down to details underfoot and often ignored, God reminds us are not alone.

Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you.  I will help you. I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.  Isaiah 41.10

God guides us on trails not on any map. But we do not aimlessly wander. Our paths are not unknown territory to Him. This place where we are is not a wilderness at all, but where the wild things are. Who or what has He put on our trail today? How is He trying to get our attention?

And then, how do we respond?   All of creation rejoices. The trees hold up their arms in praise. The birds sing among the branches. In ancient times, flowers were even carved into the columns of the tabernacle. As God renews the face of the ground, the wonders comprise His manifold witness. The awe we feel is a call to worship.  And a reminder of His steadfast love.