Bless This Mess
The time I had a nervous breakdown in the kitchen
✨ Don’t miss out on the journaling prompt in the video below.
✨ BONUS: Find my sister’s delicious chili recipe at the bottom as well!
The thing about me is that a lot of the time, I don’t think things through. Okay, most of the time! I get so excited about an idea, or so caught up in the commotion of a social event, that I dig my own self into hole after hole of plans I don’t want to make, and consequences I don’t want to face.
For a few weeks now we’ve been hosting a girl’s Bible study in our living room every Tuesday night while Michael (my husband) is at hockey practice. And every Tuesday night one of the girls comes early and has dinner with us before everyone else shows up. This fateful Tuesday eve though (also known as Monday), I pulled a Bee, and spat a bunch of rash words out of my mouth without giving them a single second of thought.
“Hey Mike, would you like to have your hockey friends over too? I can just make extra chili and you guys can have some bro time before heading to practice” I blurted.
Of course, he loved the idea, and within a few minutes the plan was set, and the boys were pumped about chili.
I was pumped too…at first.
A Kitchen Catastrophe
I love having people over. Hosting was always one of the main draws of marriage for me: if I could only have my own house, I’d invite people over and everyone would go home with a full belly and light heart. And you know what? I still stand by that wish, AND I finally have the house in question.
Just not insomuch as it involves doing dishes and cleaning the kitchen after everyone leaves. And especially not when said dishes are heaped up in the sink by boys! (I wish I’d known I’d be writing this newsletter and snapped a photo of the chili aftermath. It was gory.).
Surely enough, I made around 2.5 kilos of chili for four hockey-playing men, my friend, and myself, and everyone’s insides received the warm and comforting hug that only chili can give. I was ecstatic for succeeding at satiating these hungry tummies in our kitchen. And the night came and went, and the boys went off to hockey, and my girls came and left, and then I, unsuspecting, descended back to the kitchen to clean up. I was shellshocked. Yes, shellshocked describes my state well. And for a good fifteen minutes all I could do was stand there, outwardly still, but inwardly actively fighting off every devilish thought I had to procrastinate the disaster to the next day. The heap was so massive, and the oils and fats were left unsoaked, and it all seemed extremely overwhelming.
So I grumbled. I can’t do this! Why did I have to open my big mouth? I did this to myself. Never again will I have that many people over, especially when I know Michael will leave for hockey and I’ll be stuck cleaning up by myself.
I grumbled hard, and inevitably gloved up and got to work.
This is IT!
Something completely unexpected unraveled in me as I wiped down and dishwasher-loaded one dish at a time. Somehow, the emptier and cleaner the sink became, the clearer my thinking was able to be. And I had a rude awakening right in the midst of the mess. Right through my groggy mind and burning eyes.
Isn’t this precisely what I’ve been praying for for years and years? That our house would be a home to all our friends and family. That everyone would be welcome. That everyone would find peace and comfort within our four walls?
A slap across my soul’s face hit me so hard I had to leave the dishes and sit down for a few minutes. This is what I’ve been praying for. And did I think it would all not come at a cost? What good thing on this earth ever comes without a cost? If I’m going to keep grinning with pure glee at the smiles on our friends food-stained faces after I’ve successfully fed their bodies and nourished their souls, I’m also going to have to clean up after they leave. There’s really no space for grumbling or complaining. THIS is what I want—the whole package. There is no other [or better] way.
Acknowledging the Lived Answered Prayers
I was humbled into recognizing the blessing I am very presently walking in. Which stirs all kinds of emotions in me, considering that there was a time—not too long ago—when I didn’t think I’d be so lucky as to see my dream come true. A time when my brokenness was far bigger, closer, and darker than any hope could penetrate. And yet, here I am today, opening the door wide and watching my deepest desires physically manifest. Here I am, living my long-lost-now-found dream.
I keep having to relearn the same lessons, over and over again though, because my pride and distraction get me caught up in the knotted discomfort of the mess directly underneath my feet. Not this time, I don’t think. I can’t unsee this miracle now, and I welcome it with all its dirty dishes, its late exhausting nights, and every stain on our brand new white sofa. Bring it all on, and come on in!
Journaling Prompt
Bonus: My Sister’s Chili Recipe
For 1kg of meat
Sauté one onion in [a little bit] of oil in a pan until translucent
Place said onions into the crockpot
In the same pan, put 1kg of minced meat and leave it to rest for a couple of minutes until relaxed
Gently begin breaking the meat apart and stirring until the meat is cooked and lightly browned
Add 3 big spoons of tomato paste and mix until paste darkens slightly
Add salt and pepper to taste
Move over to the crockpot
In crockpot: add 3 big spoons of cumin powder, 2 big spoons of thyme. Optional: add one big spoon of chili powder
Add two cans of strained red and/or black beans
Add one small bottle of beer
Stir it all together, and leave to cook in the crockpot on low for 4-5 hours, occasionally stepping in for a stir
Et VOILA! Bonne appetit.
💛🐝