Last night’s dinner was a disaster. Our 9-year-old son, Noah, was recently diagnosed with Celiac disease and we’re in the process of removing gluten from our diet. It’s been a bit tricky, especially for me as I try to find tasty meals that don’t have gluten hidden in the ingredients and attempt to recreate our favorite dishes without it.
Noah has been a trooper so I thought I’d have a go and make his meal of choice, broccoli cheese quiche. It was a challenge. It took me an hour to perfect the gluten free piecrust enough for it to hold the other ingredients. Excited about my accomplishment, I popped it in the oven. Everyone was hungry and eager to try it.
Thirty minutes later the timer sounded. I pulled it out of the oven, unaware that our 70lb lab was behind me. I stepped on his paw, lost my balance and dropped the quiche onto the floor. Mark claims I let out a couple of “wordy durds” in the process. I don’t recall this but perhaps the stress hormones flooding through my veins and the gluten withdrawal caused me to momentarily black out.
I called everyone into the kitchen and they see the pile of quiche at my feet. “Grab a fork” I instructed and then sat down on the floor and began eating the quiche. Anastasia quickly joined me, “Mmmm, this is good!” Mark and Noah stood behind us, holding their forks, watching us, “Really?”
“Yes! This is dinner. I spent too much time on this for it to go to waste.” (I’m claiming gluten withdrawal here again for my momentary insanity.)
Mark kneeled by me, preparing to join us when he saw a dog hair. “Nope, can’t do it. I’m going to Alberstons and buying us some fried chicken.”
Okay that sounds better! We all put our forks down, salvaged enough to make Noah a plate and cleaned up the mess. Dinner was saved – well, until thirty minutes later when Anastasia began crying, deciding mid-meal that she wants to be a vegan and no longer feels it’s right for us to eat animals. OMG – open me a bottle of wine!
It wasn’t until I pulled out the gluten-free chocolate cupcakes that everything returned to normal. Ahhh - chocolate – proof that God loves us! It made everything better and the night humorous. It was bonding.
Meals are important and were often central in Jesus’ ministry. He ate at the house of Pharisees, tax collectors, Mary and Martha. He fed the 5,000. He invited himself to the home of Zacchaeus and prophesied and encouraged the disciples at the Last Supper.
A lot happens at a meal. We talk, we share, we debate, we encourage. It may not always be uneventful but when we invite God to join us, healing, joy, growth and bonding take place.
I fear our culture is losing the art of sharing a meal. In our house we’re often guilty of wolfing down dinner in order to make it to a practice or meeting. Or we want to be done in time to watch a show on TV.
The disciples entered the Passover meal unaware of it being their last meal with Jesus before his crucifixion. What if they had rushed through it in order for Jesus to get some more healings in? They would have missed the spiritual food Jesus gave them that night.
Each time I pick my kids up at school I ask them, “What did you do today?” to which I often receive, “Nothing.” It’s not until later that night at the dinner table (when we haven’t rushed off somewhere) we hear bits of the playground drama. It’s in these moments we’re invited into their lives. If we’re not at the table, we miss the opportunity to enter in.
I don’t want to wake up one day and regret I wasn’t at the table with them when they needed me.
Have a great weekend and may you table be full of family and friends. And if you drop the meal on the floor – grab a fork and send someone out for chicken and chocolate and have a great laugh.
Do you have any dinner disasters that turned into wonderful memories?
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