Occasionally I will use extreme measures to calm my spirit. Like going for a long drive out in the country;or filling my bathtub to the brim with tolerably hot water, extra bubbles, and then soaking for an hour while reading a good book. But today, something simple and ordinary worked. I decided to cook a big pot of beef stew.
There was something uniquely satisfying about preparing the vegetables, creating the broth, adding the seasonings, periodically stirring the pot, and savoring the wonderful aroma of the slowly simmering mixture. The process calmed me, centered me, and somehow helped me re-focus on the simple pleasures of every day life.
At last, after several hours, it was time to serve up the hearty stew in my favorite red and white spatter-wear enameled bowls. As I dipped my biggest soup ladle into the pot for the first serving, I realized some of the stew had stuck to the bottom. I knew if I continued to stir or scrape the pot, the stew would be ruined—causing all of it to taste like the scorched part. To save the stew, I had to gently pour the good portion into another pot and throw away the the all-but-burned parts.
Suddenly, from that pot of stew, a parable began to unfold. I realized I could do the same thing with the situation I’d been fretting over. It was time to turn off the heat, quit stirring the pot with worry, anxiety and regrets. I had to take that which was good and throw away the bad part that might cause something lovely to be destroyed forever.
I simply had to make a choice...to partake of friendships’ long simmering nourishment, careful not to scrape the bottom where the fire had been too hot, and concentrate on the goodness that could be salvaged.
Sometimes the wisest answers are the simplist.
Sometimes...we just need to stop stirring the pot!
Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things.
Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth. James 3:5
