I wrote a book, called Feasting & Foraging, and I would like to tell you why.
About a year ago on a Friday night, after an extremely long and hard week, it was suddenly and inexplicably dinner time. I walked into my kitchen to cook dinner and as I stood in front of the fridge, I said out loud– there is nothing in here.
I wanted to order pizza or asian or anything else but because we are adults on a budget, I took another look.
I didn’t find a surprise dinner, perfectly cooked and waiting for us. I didn’t find anything miraculous, but what I did find was building blocks. Pieces of what we did have that would come together to make a meal– a meal that would fill us. Half an hour later, instead of eating cereal or another frozen pizza, (let’s hear it for the quality frozen pizza though, the treasured gift of mothers everywhere,) we ate what would become an end of the week favorite, Fridge Forager Nachos. Half a bag of Multi-grain tortilla chips, half a grilled chicken breast, leftover cheese and a handful of leftover vegetables came together to make our Friday night supper.
As we sat at the kitchen table peeling crispy chips off the aluminum foil and breaking off edges that sat a little too long under the broiler — it hit me.
This meal is not miraculous, it is just the result of a second look.
We weren’t eating dinner because I’m a magician in the kitchen, we ate a decent dinner because we looked again to find what we did have, and went from there. It’s not usually about the food, but the time we spend in the glorious everydayness matters when it points us up to the Giver of our gifts.
I wrote this book because I believe that Gratefulness changes our vision. And I think you believe it too.
I think that whether you cling to hope or are in a season of needing to be reminded of what grace you hold in your lap, you too believe that perspective makes the difference.
It is the dance of want and plenty that keeps us twirling from gratefulness to supplication and back again. We need both the days of feasting and the days of foraging to remind us of our longing. Just as it is a particular kind of delight to step back and see God provide for an abject need we’ve had for so long, it is the same with cooking from sparse ingredients. (Feasting & Foraging)
I hope that you know that as I scrawled recipes on scrap paper and tested them countless times, I thought of you in your own home. I thought of you scrambling eggs and finding lost shoes and remembering to pay the water bill and juggling all the things you juggle– and I prayed that this would find you at the right time.
And speaking of time, you can get your own copy of Feasting & Foraging for free this weekend-– It’s essays on food and hope and it’s recipes and photos– and I loved making it for you. I hope that you love it too.
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