That’s The Way It Is With Kitchens

I just made two batches of brownies.
One batch is for us.
The other batch is for a special boy who is celebrating his 10th birthday.
Both batches are cooling on a rack in the kitchen.

The house has that delectable brownie smell wafting through it.
It is the aroma that used to welcome my children home from school.
I made the delicious brownies with the dark chocolate chips inside.
It is the batter that my children loved to lick on a spoon.

As soon as a certain metal bowl was pulled out of the cabinet, their ears perked up.
As soon as they heard the spoon scraping against the side of the bowl, they would come.
I could hear their footsteps on the back stairs as they ran to lick the spoon.
I would often get a few spoons so that they each could get a taste.

Licking the spoon was a big treat.
Children have been doing that forever it seems.
Like everything else, there are now warnings about eating the raw eggs that are in the batter.
Licking the spoon just seems to go hand and hand with childhood.

Brownies brought them down the back stairs.
Homemade chocolate chip cookies brought them down the front stairs.
As soon a they heard the Kitchen Aid mixer, I would hear the familiar words.
Can I have the beater?

Not every one of my five children liked to have a taste of batter.
I am not an egalitarian at heart.
Children must learn to wait and take turns.
Licking the spoon or the beater was one of those times that multiple spoons were necessary.

Every time I make brownies or homemade chocolate chip cookies, I remember.
I almost expect to hear, Can I have the beater?
When I made the brownies for the birthday boy, I actually licked the spoon myself.
After they went into the oven and before I cleaned up, I confess: I licked the spoon.

When all my children were home, we had roast beef for every Sunday dinner.
I often wondered if they ever got bored of the same Sunday meal.
They never did; they enjoyed it and looked forward to it.
There was the unmistakable smell of roast beef permeating every corner on a Sunday afternoon.

As soon as I got out the cutting board and the electric knife, I heard them.
Piece! Piece! Piece! As they came running down the stairs.
Licking the spoon and the beater was something my daughters liked to do.
Running downstairs for a piece of roast beef was something my sons liked to do.

I remember hearing their voices, before they deepened, saying the word over and over.
One Sunday afternoon, I heard a deep voice join in the chorus.
My husband wanted a piece, too; it got to be a guy thing after a while.
They each got a thin slice before I put any on the serving plate.

Warm cookies never stayed on the cooling rack for long.
Just one, was something I heard time and again.
Just one, with their big eyes that were terribly hard to refuse.
Memories were made in the kitchen.

That’s they way it is with kitchens.
Fellowship happens there.
Fellowship happens quite easily over a meal.
Bodies and souls are nourished there.

They devoted themselves to the apostles teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. (Acts 2: 42-47)

The early church grew and flourished through meal fellowship.
Breaking bread together and praying together solidified the believers.
That’s the way it is with kitchens.
That’s they way it is when you share a meal together.

Bodies and souls are nourished.
The early Church grew.
The believers shared with others.
They gave to anyone as he had need.

That’s the way it is when God’s people gather over a meal.
Can you imagine the teachable moments you can have with your child over a batter bowl?
Can you imagine the things you can talk about as a child is licking a spoon or a beater?
Can you imagine the lessons a child can learn as they wait for the oven door to open?

Conversations happen in a kitchen.
Questions are answered in a kitchen.
Dreams are shared in a kitchen.
Tears are dried in a kitchen.

That’s the way it is with kitchens.
God knows that meal fellowship is important.
That is why Jesus shared the Passover meal on the night He was betrayed.
Bodies and souls were nourished that night and are still nourished to this day.

We need to make meal fellowship a priority in our homes.
Meals should be a time when we eat together with glad and sincere hearts.
That time around the table is a time to pray and thank God for His provision.
That time around the table is a time to praise God for His goodness and His blessings.

There is so much going on in a kitchen.
It is not about licking a spoon or a beater.
It is about making a memory.
It is about the joy of being together.

Day to day moments are shared.
Dreams are put into words.
Hearts are heard and understood.
Relationships are strengthened and deepened.

And you thought a kitchen was just for cooking and baking!