GOD AMONG THE POTS AND PANS
There are several spiritual writers--far more advanced than I am--who have told us that God can be found in kitchens, sinks, and among the kitchen ware. St. Teresa of Avila, one of my favorite juicy saints, once said that God could be found amid the pots and pans.
St. Lawrence wrote, "Practicing the Presence of God" in the 16th-century, was a monk who spent most of his life in the monastery in the kitchen, washing up after meals. He knew.
And I? I do not always sense God amidst the pots and pans of my lovely, narrow, remodeled kitchen, but sometimes I do. Over the sink is a large glass window (is there any other kind? Bamboo perhaps?) which looks out over our steep brushy field leading down to the woods on our ridge. Often when washing dishes I will see a doe
picking her way carefully across the field, stopping now and then to eat some grass or soft green plants. Once I saw three (3!) bobcats in the field lying down, probably the mother and two of her half-grown kits.
I definitely felt God among the pots and pans, my sink, the running water which I failed to shut off, and crowded counters. God was saying to me:
"Annie, girl, stop washing and look. See my creatures out in the field. Aren't they lovely and majestic?" Yes, they certainly are, God of all creation. Anne Lamott used to say, "God, you are such a show-off!" I second that.
I think there is more at work here though. As a cancer survivor (8 years!) and an aging woman with an ANS disease, I am always conscious of the gift of days. Standing upright at my stove, sizzling chicken breasts in preparation to make a sauce with pomegranate molasses, mushrooms, and red peppers to serve over arborio rice,
I know I am living on borrowed time. I say, "Thank you, God, that I am still standing, still here in my beloved kitchen with windows overlooking the trees, with my dear husband and doggy in the next room. Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Years ago, there was a wonderful documentary about the beginnings of Gospel music in this country, sharing videos of Mr. Dorsey and others. It was soul-stirring music. And when someone began to sing, "Aaa...men, Aaa...men, Aaa..men, Aaa....men, Aaa...men."
This is a perfect song to sing loudly while stirring chicken or soup over the stove. It reminds me that God holds all of my bones together gently but strongly; that God holds me upright; that God keeps my thoughts from peeling off and falling to the ground in a disheveled heap.
So, I guess I can agree with both St. Lawrence and St. Teresa of Avila that God CAN be found among the pots and pans, in the water pouring over my pans in the sink, in the food which seems to magically come out so damn well almost every single time. (Except twice: when I made steak and kidney pie in the early years of our marriage, giving a strong smell of urine to our kitchen, and later on, sliced, cooked ham in raisin sauce, a recipe from "Woman's Day.")
Next time you cook in your kitchen, remember who is there with you--holding you upright, sending your songs soaring to the ceiling, making your fingers tender and right on every pan and dish. God. With you. Among you. Always. Can somebody say Amen???
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