from an article originally posted September 2, 2014…  

We have run away to capture beauty, to sleep, to recover from our hard, and to sit beside one another. We are a family that functions only upon the use of an antenna. So we have a few fancy channels, but not really. PBS and another network is about all we have. We are happy that way. But on vacation, on blessed vacation, the offerings grow as do the number of televisions. Currently our abode has four, yes four, televisions. Holy cow.

The kids have been swimming, working on a little school, watching TV, and resting. We have eaten well and read a book together. I am still recovering from my big chemo, my surgery, and I’m still taking 2 weeks of tough chemo. So I’m slow, endlessly slow, going this week. I have enjoyed life from the comfort of the king bed in our room. It’s a beautiful nest of fluffy duvets and endless white. It is a lovely nest from which I capture each of my children. I have napped, read, sat poolside, and enjoyed quiet.

Vacation, for me, also means cooking shows. Goodness, I love cooking shows. My kids could probably push me into cable simply for cooking shows. Food is not really appealing, but cooking for my loves will always be near to my heart. I speak love, tell the story of love, through cooking for my people. I cut the veggies and place the dips in a language of love. When I tackle a difficult recipe, it’s for love. Cooking with care is the joy of creating connection to my people. I cook, I pray, I dream of the food meeting my loves and nourishing them. I have made elaborate meals that flopped, simple meals that were a great win. But in all the effort—love. Getting to watch cooking is getting to watch that love story.

Cooking may be the greatest loss I feel when I’m sick. So many have loved us with such grace in cooking for my people. But as I sit limp upon my bed, I grieve missing that language of love towards my family. Chemo robs strength, energy, and the ability to share a room with many smells. It’s a jerk like that.As I slowly recover, I dream of building hearty meals for my people. Pasta, vegetables, warm bread, kindness through my cooking. The moment I get to return to the helm of my kitchen is always a joyful moment for everyone. Jason is able to cook, he is willing, but it is not where he communicates love like me.

Where are you uniquely made to communicate love to your family? Is it through your cleaning, your organizing, or do you love your people with food like me? How do you uniquely enjoy a task in your home that makes you feel as though you were specially and specifically made to love? I will always fight for my way back into the kitchen. I will always long for the moment of meeting my loves over loud music and clanging pots. I will always enjoy the lap around Whole Foods where I envision the lovely meals I will create for my children and love. So excuse me while I go watch a little cooking love on TV this morning. I’m coming out of the fog, I’m dreaming of cooking something amazing by the end of the week for my people.