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My mother-in-law Ada enjoyed telling our family about an incident early in her marriage. Her young husband Charlie, made life difficult for her in the kitchen. “No one can cook like my mother. . .” he often said.

“Can you believe it?” Ada commented. “He actually liked his pork chops cooked until they resembled old shoe leather. I decided to fix him,” she added with a glint in her soft blue eyes. “Instead of arguing and defending myself, I enrolled in a cooking school. I was only seventeen when we married so I figured I had a few things to learn. That marked a turning point in our relationship. I became a good cook and he became a grateful eater.”

One night after finishing her cooking classes, Ada served pork chops, sauerkraut, and homemade applesauce. Charlie cut into the meat and asked what kind it was. He didn’t recognize the plump meat cooked to perfection. He’d been used to the flat fried chop he’d had to chase around the plate with his knife and fork just to get a bite.

“We both laughed at that one,” said Ada, “and over the years when I asked what he’d like for dinner he always responded the same way. “How about pork chops––the way you fix them.”

This story prompted me to think about how I respond when God wants to serve me a beautiful meal for my spirit––a cup running over with love, a plateful of peace, a bowl of assurance. Do I receive His gift with thanksgiving and praise, or do I complain about the portion, the size, the texture, and the manner in which He served it?

You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the LORD your God (Job 2:26).






Cooked to Perfection — 6 Comments

  1. wow, what a touching story and beautiful message, dear Karen – I admired Ada’s determined and loving spirit, and I loved your graceful message with gratitude in beautiful words – “a cup running over with love, a plateful of peace, a bowl of assurance.” Wow, Karen, simply heart-touching beautiful. Thank you so very much for your loving spirit. You’re amazing. Jing

  2. I really do like this one-the story about the Pork Chops and most of all your last paragraph! It made me think of one of my favorite songs: “Fill my cup, Lord,I lift it up Lord, come and quence the thirsting of my soul, Bread of Heaven, feed me til I want no more,
    Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole”. He ALWAYS fills it up if I let Him!

    On the light side. I made my first cherry pie soo after I married at 20 years of age. I used a can of cherries that had been given to us in a shower that was then called a “Pounding for the Preacher” because they would give a lb of coffee, flour, sugar, etc. We had a couple from college to come and eat with us. The pie looked beautiful. We cut into it and it looked like ‘dough with cherries stuck in it’ ! We had to laugh and thought we could just pick out the cherries and enjoy them. WHAT a surprise~they still had the pits in them!!! No damage was done, and apparently it did not put a “question mark” in our male friend’s thinking, because on the way back to the dorms he asked her to marry him and she accepted!!

    Thanks again for a great lesson!

    • Margaret, you have the most engaging stories. They always bring a smile. I remember my mother making the best cherry pies–without pits! With a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, we were in dessert heaven.

  3. Karen, thanks for the delightful story about my Aunt Ada and Uncle Charlie. And thanks for your inspirational words–they are always a blessing.

    • Thank you, Nancy, for writing. I love this story Ada told. She had spunk as well as a solid faith that she lived out admirably during the time I knew her.

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