When Matt and I first got married, I didn't know how to cook.
If it was up to me to make dinner, prep would entail opening a package of some sort and popping the contents in the microwave. With time, I got a little adventurous and began cooking in the slow cooker. I learned to make a mean pot roast and I also tried my hand at what Matt would later refer to as Canned Food Roulette. What's that, you say? Well, I'd get some canned foods out of the pantry, throw the contents in the crock pot with some Rotel -- and hope for the best.
Though my culinary skills have improved slightly with time, Matt is still the chef in our family. He's mastered cuisine from curry to fajitas, from falafel to crepes. Saturday morning brunch is a real treat in our house. I sleep lay-in-bed late while the kids play and Matt prepares brioche French toast, waffles, chorizo and eggs, whatever he fancies that day.
Last Saturday morning, Matt was busy preparing for an art show. This meant it was my responsibility to make breakfast. I was feeling a bit ambitious, so I decided to make what the kids refer to as Ang's Famous Cheesy Eggs. There was one problem -- we were out of eggs. I did the logical thing -- I sent my daughter to the neighbor's to ask for some eggs. She returned empty handed. So, I sent her to another neighbor's house. No luck. Fortunately for us, we live on a community-run farm and there's a refrigerator in the barn stocked with fresh eggs. Out to the barn she went, running back with a carton of eggs. Ang's Famous Cheesy Eggs were a huge success.
Later that week, Matt and I were reflecting on what, at times, seems to be a perpetual season of difficulty. Bone weary and discouraged -- for good reason -- I was indulging in a bit of self-pity. You know the kind; it usually leads to bad theology. Have I done something wrong to deserve this? Does God hate me? No and no. God never uses adversity to prove my culpability or punish me. God's grace is freely given, even when I can't recognize the gift.
In moments of doubt, how liberating would it be if, instead of falling into my normal script of blaming myself and questioning God's goodness, I were able to just say, "I'm fresh out of faith that God's goodness will see us through this circumstance." What would it look like to reach out to my neighbors to borrow faith as I so easily borrow eggs?