In 2009, I married the man of my dreams. The week after our honeymoon, we came home and started attending Missions team meetings at Billy and Lynda’s house every Sunday afternoon after church. We prayed for our trip to Haiti and rehearsed the skits we would perform for evangelistic meetings.
We gathered in their comfy family room right beside the kitchen. Food was always a part of the equation – meatballs, fried chicken, chips and salsa, crackers and cheese. Each week there was a pot luck surprise.
I am the pickiest eater in the whole world. My diet consisted of hot dogs, spaghetti and breakfast burritos. People told me all the time I was missing out on life, but I felt content with my choice to continue eating these extremely healthy food choices. (Note the sarcasm)
It wasn’t until I got married and for our wedding we received every type of kitchen tool you could ever think of that I began to realize that there might be more out there. I began to realize this was going to be difficult and getting over the powerful feminist in me and finding myself apron-wearing and face covered in powder seemed a little dull and so cliché. As my marriage progressed I realized being able to cook a good meal was about more than pleasing my husband, it was important to our relationship and to God.
I have a lot of friends who really love to cook and I had them come over and help me learn. This is was a great asset to my marriage and while I can’t say I am an all American chef, I can tell you that hot dogs haven’t been on the menu in a good solid six months.
So why is this important? I believe that as a wife God calls us to take care of our husbands. We must submit to our husbands the same way that Jesus submitted himself. Does this always mean wearing Leave it to Beaver pearls and making sure dinner is on the table at 6pm? Not always, but sometimes. For me this was never going to be something I did, I was way to progressive for this. But as I learned more about Jesus I learned more about how I need to act for my husband and it can be defined in one word, sacrifice.
Food is a simple and important way to show Jesus’ love for his people. With my husband, for my grieving friend, and even for the lost student attending the youth event for the first time. When tragedy struck our house recently a friend brought over dinner for my husband and me. It felt like the most caring and beautiful way to tell me there is love in the world and it steams from the love of Jesus on the cross. Is food the only way to show someone you love them, no, but it is something we all need and it is something we can share with others to help reach God’s people for his kingdom.
Kaylee lives and works in Denver, CO with her wonderful husband Patrick and their dog Denver. She is currently pursuing a degree in photography at the University of Colorado Denver, where she is famous for her impeccable taste in scarves and cardigans. Kaylee uses her gifts in film and photography to create “makes your eyes dance” powerpoint slides for her campus ministry. Kaylee is a formal member of the Geek Squad Target, where she is a beast at explaining technology to old people. In her spare time, Kaylee likes to disciple girls and kill zombies.
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Bob's favorite at Cafe Jordano (a little local place in Lakewood, Colorado that has won tons of top Italian food awards) is the greatest meal on the planet! I love it so much (apparently Bob does too) that I have zero desire to try anything else on the menu.
The Lord has provided many opportunities for us to share Christ with the workers there. One time while we were with some friends at Cafe Jordano, my husband, who loves to get into spiritual discussions (and tries to break the sound barriers) asked our waitress a question leading into a spiritual conversation. She was eager to talk. We spent over an hour talking with her.
One of the many ways that we were blessed after having both of our kiddos were people from our church, small group, and family brought us amazing meals for two to three weeks after the babies arrived! Having those meals delivered took so much of the stress off of me as I recovered from childbirth and as we adapted to the changes a new child brought. Plus, having the opportunity to visit and share the excitement of our newest blessing with all these awesome friends was such a wonderful addition to our days!
Every January over the Martin Luther King Jr. Day weekend, my church has a winter retreat for the youth group. I helped out with the youth here and there, but I never stepped outside of my comfort zone to do anything too scary. However, all of that changed with one little phone call. I was home sick when I received a call from the youth pastor just three days before the retreat. The husband and wife who were supposed to cook at the winter retreat that year were pregnant. They had just found out that there were complications, and that they would not be able to go. I hesitantly answered that I would be willing to cook. I was grateful to find out that all of the shopping and menu planning was already done. I would just need to show up and head up the kitchen with three other helpers.
I can’t remember the first time I cooked with my Grandma, or Grammy as I called her. That’s probably because I don’t have any memories where it wasn’t happening. My Grammy cultivated my love for the kitchen, always willing to let me experiment and grow. I recall one time where she let me pick the menu for our tea date. I picked 5 recipes to make, one being a cold pear soup with crème fraiche. Y’all, I was 7. What person in their right mind encourages a seven-year-old to make a cold pear soup? My Grammy.