In Exchange For My Kitchen Table

Monday, July 27, 2015

You see that? It's called a kitchen table! 

I haven't seen it since June! 

So thankful for all the bellies that our little farm has fed this summer and for all of you who have supported my little farmer to get to Africa this fall. 

I've cooked more than I ever have in my entire life this summer. Not exactly what I had planned but alas... It was such a blessing. 

It has made me think of all the hands I've seen diligently plowing away at Earth broken with just a stick or makeshift trowel. Day after day, women spend their  lives cultivating the most beautiful vegetables on the sides of mountains in Haiti, heaps of color in carrots, beets, potatoes women bent over have stopped and invited me over and into their homes and spaces. Their life isn't one to pop into and to romanticize. It's hard work. Yes, it's beautiful but it isn't easy or painless, there are layers of stories within their rows of crop. I remember thinking I could never pop into their place for a day and have even a small idea of what that was like, yet they invited me in anyway. 

So this summer as I've watched my men prepare, plant, cultivate, sow and reap, I'm reminded to invite people in anyway. They will never know the totality of our story or all of our layers. They may never know exactly how hard the battle is every day, but we invite anyway. We are all fighting something. We spread out towels on our table, lay out our harvest and invite them to eat from it, to become part of our story. At first it seemed so exciting, so much a bounty, other times it felt full, crowded, a little overwhelming even. And finally on days like today, when the tables been cleared, the harvest all given out, it serves as reminder to treasure of all the stories and people love invited in. The hard work of it all isn't the point anymore, it's the inviting in, spreading out ones self and letting others come pick the parts that will nourish them the way they need to be fed. 

It's about being fed. 

It's about finding out your dear friends cancer marker dropped from the hundreds to ONE in between vegetable pick ups. It's about loading up your mail lady's mail truck with baskets of fresh corn and veggies and having her pray for your husbands recent health concerns. Insert tears. It's about getting to know new friends and having a yummy excuse to see old ones. 

It's about the pride in your son's face and how excited he gets to see what he's earned. It's about him reaching his goal to buy his passport and hearing him pull people into the world of Rwanda and the lives of the children coming to visit Sole Hope that he's going to meet. It's about appreciating your husband and being thankful for how hard he works for your family.  It's about not being to prideful to let people into your house when it smells like a fish camp bc you have been frying eggplant for Parmesan all morning long with pots and pans and kids everywhere, not to mention you haven't worn makeup in weeks. It's about letting people into the mess and realizing were all a mess. 

I'm glad to have my table back, but not just because I have a place to eat now, but because it being empty reminds me we're all more full.... of good, fresh, home grown with love food, of grace, of community and of the gift of friendship and blessing and family. 

May we never stop inviting others into the harvest. You never know what will become of it. 

1 comment:

  1. So thankful for all the bellies that our little farm has fed this summer and for all of you who have supported my little farmer to get to Africa this fall. best embroidery machine


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