Just Make Lasagna
I am tired of comparing and complaining. For some strange reason, whether it’s hormonal imbalances, dirty laundry or just my selfish nature, I have a tendency to quickly slip into the “compare and complain” game if I’m not careful. When I become lazy or exhausted and have not methodically made an effort to spend time with God and have my own alone time, I begin to compare my life to others and make a long list of all the things I can complain about tooting my horn, “Life is terrible!”
I’ll admit it; I had one of these days last week. I started the day off with a good workout and a fresh cup of coffee (which is supposed to make the world rosy), but when I stepped back into my house something snapped in my brain and I began to complain about everything! From dirty socks on the floor to unmade beds, it was as if a sergeant had walked into our house.
Finally, my husband confronted me and told me to stop complaining about every little detail. He was right. Yes, the clothes needed to be picked up and the beds should probably be made, but my sour, spiteful attitude was making my “good intentions” come out of my mouth like a brutal sword. My husband and my son didn’t know that I had good intentions in my brain; all they heard were the militant words coming from my mouth.
So, I just shut my mouth because I honestly didn’t want anything else negative coming out and I started making lasagna. As my hands were chopping onions and garlic, my thoughts wandered to the elderly couple that lives across the street. Cooped up in a quiet house all day with no children or family around and both stricken with serious medical conditions, they both had a lot to complain about…but they never complained. I felt the sharp sting of conviction in my stomach as I thought about all the wonderful things I have to be grateful for—health, a loving husband, a healthy son, food to eat, water to drink, hot showers, a nice television—the list could go on forever. I sighed, “I have nothing to complain about.”
With that subtle reminder of my blessed life, I decided to make two lasagnas—one for my family and one for the couple across the street.
When the timer went off, I pulled the lasagnas from the oven and asked my husband and son to walk with me across the street. We rang the doorbell and as the door opened, two big, grateful smiles appeared and I knew that my good intentions had come out in the right way this time.
As we walked back home, I hugged my husband and my son telling them how much I love them and how sorry I was for nagging them.
God used lasagna to not only encourage a lovely, elderly couple that day, but He also used it to change my heart and my outlook on life. I pray that God will allow me to always buy a double portion of the ingredients for lasagna so that every time I make it I can ask Him who else can be blessed with lasagna.
