Munching on peanut butter toast and sipping from a cup of warm milk, I finally knew the answer to the question that had been cycling round my circle of family and friends.
What was the question that had been cycling round? It was basic. “Do you like instapots?”
A modern day pressure cooker apparently is what it is except when you put things in…they are quickly done cooking within short order. I thought I should like them. I thought I should want one as it’s the latest craze and all.
It would make perfect sense to want one. I mean, who isn’t under pressure? Who doesn’t want instant this and instant that? A clever name to boot is what I thought, “instapot.” I’d roll the name around on my tongue as I observed a few here and there online. However, as curious as I had become about them, something didn’t sit quite right.
The very thought of it made me all jittery. I tried to like’em. Even went searching on “Buy and Sell,” an online shop to see what I could see. A whole slew of them came up for sale right after Christmas which sort of set off a warning light or two. Perhaps they’re not all that cracked up to be what they say they are. Or, then again, maybe some just needed some hard cash to stash.
“Love my instapot!” was what I kept hearing. Truly, I didn’t need to love’em…I was just hoping to like the thought of getting one enough to make the leap.
I tried a recipe or two with one of my daughters, as she is the proud owner of one. We “liked” it. In fact, we waited around all day just so we could cook it last minute…so it could be instant…or why use it…right? And, like I said, we liked it, but then again, I think we both felt pressure that we should.
Once again, I went online and a pretty aqua blue one was for sale by a seller. It was used only once. I offered less. They said, “No. We’d rather just let it sit on the shelf if we don’t get the price we’re asking for even if we don’t use it.” Made no sense to me…so I stopped asking.
And now, months later, just sitting here eating my peanut butter toast and warm milk, I look up. In the dusky light of the kitchen, propped up all solid like, are three cookbooks. I know because I can read the words upon their binders. They bind my heart. And one reads, “Slow Cooker Classics.” My breathing slows as I read and suddenly, it all makes sense.
You see, I don’t like pressure and have learned in life that anything too instantaneous…in the long run…will not be as savory as when it is being slowly and intentionally completed.
There’s just something about slowing down and allowing the aroma to waft through the air when the lid is lifted every so oft that I yearn for. I calm as I not only savor the moment but the foretaste of the feast to come.
He spoke about a foretaste in 2 Cor. 5:5. “And He who formed us with this very end in view is God, who has given us His Spirit as a pledge and foretaste of that bliss” (ESV).
So…like him…I’m going to intentionally slow and enjoy the process in order to not miss the foretaste of the feast to come. Amen.
Kathleen Kjolhaug is a columnist and can be reached at theologyinthetrenches.blogspot.com.