Use a Bigger Pot

Whipping up a big batch of something good
is a project everybody can get into.

“Food never solved anything.” It’s true. In times of hardship or stress, food won’t overcome the hurdle for us. And yet, we all need to eat. Typically, the times I have been most aware of my hunger for food are the times I am least able to provide it for myself. For example, when we brought home newborn twins, the need to eat was real—and so was the fact that I had little time or energy to cook. That’s when others stepped in.

For nine weeks, our family and friends from our church fed us, supplying us three days a week with big, nutritious comfort meals. For nine weeks we hardly ever cooked, we just ate. It didn’t solve the stress of life, but that food gave us the physical strength to keep going as well as the emotional boost of feeling loved by others. Such a basic need, when met with love, nourishes heart, soul, and body alike. As Edith Schaeffer writes,

"Food cannot take care of spiritual, psychological and emotional problems, but the feeling of being loved and cared for, the actual comfort of the beauty and flavour of food, the increase of blood sugar and physical well-being, help one to go on during the next hours better equipped to meet the problems." (The Hidden Art of Homemaking. USA: Tyndale House, 1985. P. 124)

Personal confession: before those nine weeks, I rarely cooked for anyone outside my own family. I was even approached to be part of a meals ministry at our former church—and turned it down. “I’m too busy,” I told myself. “Besides, what would I cook?” Then I became totally dependent on others to feed my family. Those meals filled me with such an abundance of gratitude that I couldn’t help but share from our table. Not only did we more fully realize the practical difference food made, we realized the emotional impact of having “thinking of you” put into the concrete expression of a meal. There isn’t much I can do yet to practically help others, but every day I cook. Almost every day a child asks me if we can find a new recipe to make. If we’re already in the kitchen, I can double or triple a recipe. That much I can do. And when fear of my food offering not being “good enough” starts to chip away at my resolve, here is what I remember:

1. It doesn't have to be fancy. Actually, it shouldn’t be. This isn’t a competition. People who are suffering or stressed don't need fussy food. They need comfort food, something familiar to nourish them and sustain them. This is especially true of families with children. They need something simple that everyone can and will eat: tacos, chicken noodle soup, sloppy joes, mac n’ cheese bake, lasagna. The point of the meal isn't to call attention to itself, but to put the eater at rest.

2. It doesn't have to be homemade. Who doesn't like pizza? I've been given take'n'bake pizza many times and it is always a blessing. One woman who came regularly to our home to help would sometimes bring along turkey and cheese crescent sandwiches for our lunch. It became David’s favorite way to eat a sandwich, and all the components came straight from a box. We didn’t care. It was good and we didn’t have to make or buy it. The point is to give good food. I give away homemade pulled-pork paired with Bush's Baked Beans or Mott's Applesauce. Not everything in a meal has to be made at home.

3. It doesn’t have to be a full meal. The same woman who brought crescent sandwiches would almost always bring some kind of a little snack gift for me: trail mix pouches; Rice Krispie bars; chocolate. She called them “caloric perks,” and it was just what I needed. Not every blessing of food needs to be a whole meal. A batch of muffins, a bag of trail mix, a fancy chocolate bar, a package of really cool pasta noodles for the kids—these are all meaningful caloric perks that brighten the day, because it reminds you that you are remembered. Sometimes a cookie is all you need to help you persevere.

4. It doesn’t have to be food. Gift cards are wonderful things, especially when they are to places where drive thru is an option. Maybe cooking isn’t your thing. Maybe you simply don’t have time. Consider sending someone a gift card to their favorite restaurant. I’ve yet to hear any of my kids complain about going to MacDonald’s or Arby’s for dinner. It’s always a treat to them—and a treat to the parents who don’t have to clean up the dishes after the meal.

There is almost always someone in our lives who is facing a challenge, be it a new baby or a hard pregnancy, a season of illness or grief, the loss of a friend or the loss of a job, or just an overwhelming load of the daily grind of life. Food won’t solve any of those problems, but it can help. A gift of food can help people by giving them practical proof on a plate that they aren’t alone and that they are loved. A meal prepared and given in love is a reminder of God’s care and provision, even in hard times. It is a chance to be reminded to “taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Psalm 34:8). When we’ve tasted of that goodness, how can we keep from sharing it? Let’s get cooking.