Kitchen Crises

Last week I declared to the world, “If I make it through this week it will be a miracle!”  We were scheduled to spend a week vacationing in Pagosa Springs, Colorado; instead, we were stuck at home dealing with stress.  Our “time share,” passed down to us from in-laws, is a glorious place to rest. It causes our hearts to flutter, but not our children’s, as there is absolutely nothing a young eighteen and twenty year old can do. Bored to pieces is where they end up. In the past, we’ve had family game time, trips to the nearby hot springs, and movie nights by driving forty-five minutes to Durango. This year, we couldn’t make it work. My desperate need for R & R went sour.

My husband came down with a cold which turned into strep. While caring for him, two people in our church had surgery, which shoved me into pastoral care (my husband, sick and the pastor, couldn’t make it). At the same time, my son decided to wait until the very last minute to apply for college and a scholarship, which was also due that week. Adding fuel to the fire, as they say, he also had a mound of addresses, envelops, and letters due for his senior mission trip – all of which needed my help! Needles to say, I myself, had a job and tried to fit in work in the midst of the chaos.

It all came to a head one evening while trying to cook a good meal for the family. Me in the kitchen – not a pretty sight.  I decided to fry pork chops, make mashed potatoes, and of course the guys love gravy, so I added gravy to the list.

I have no idea what possessed me to take upon such a task when so many other issues were going on. I stood over the stove and flipped the last two pork chops in the pan. The crackling and sizzling gave out a clue the fire was too hot, but I ignored it. At the same time, I decided to start the mashed potatoes. I threw the butter in the pan and began squashing. What was I thinking when I also decided to start the gravy! My mother taught me better than that (sorry mom). The gravy is always last to be made.

Suddenly I found myself in a quandary. Everything started spiraling out of control. Smoke drifted up from the pork chops. With one hand I grabbed and turned them over and with the other mashed at the potatoes so the butter would melt. Right in the center of where I stood, I poured the flour into the pan in preparation to make gravy. I then realized I was over my head. I moved swiftly, back and forth from pan to pan. And then  . . . it happened.

Right in the middle of my "cooking gone wrong" moment, my son came in with a hand full of clothes and almost shouted above the racket, “Mom! Can you wash these for me sometime?” The other, at the same time said, “Hey mom, did you sew my jeans yet?” Moans, grunts, and noises came from the kitchen as I moved from pan to pan.  “Oh no! Help!” I shouted. I heard my husband say, “I need medicine.”

 Finding my voice, I boisterously shouted, “I need three hands people! Three hands!!”  I removed the pans from the burners, looked around, and completely broke out in laughter. This was it. This was the day someone would need to admit me in the hospital for having a nervous breakdown. I looked around and of course, no one was there to hear my ranting. Everyone scattered, leaving me  standing in the puddle of my emotional crises with no one to pick me up – no one but God. Tickled from my crazy response, all I could do was cry out in laughter. I secretly snickered through the entire meal, all the while confessing to God, “Okay Lord, I’m losing my mind.”  I couldn’t help but feel God was snickering too.

I’m glad I could laugh in this situation. Most of the time, I don’t allow myself to laugh in the midst of a crisis or in any chaotic moment. Thank you God for moments of laughter - especially those that have the potential for another kind of response. Whatever you are facing – I promise - the pork chops will be eaten, the potatoes will end up mashed, and the gravy will turn out okay. It will not be the end of the world - so laugh - if you can.

 

Praying You Find Moments of Laughter