Wednesday, October 10, 2012

His Favorite Recipe: Spaghetti with Clam Sauce

In the morning, after breakfast, I should read my Bible.


Sometimes things happen:
a phone call,
a mess,
a disagreement needing to be dealt with,

a distraction.

Somehow, if I miss that time,
it seems to get lost.

But I can hear my father's voice.


When I was a little girl,
my father became a Christian.
He left his old life behind and
picked up his cross and began to follow Jesus.

Sundays were no longer about football games and cases of beer.

I awoke on Sundays to loud Christian music on the record player,
hymns from large choirs,
making me wonder if I had died and was entering heaven.
I could hear my father's voice joining in at especially moving parts,
despite the fact that he "isn't musical."

Sometimes, he just couldn't help himself.

(LOTS of garlic).

Every Sunday seemed to start that way.
It brought peace and prepared our souls for church...
 even if I was still the one flying out the door to the beeping horn,
shoes in hand.

But my father was not a Sunday Christian.

I can remember hearing preachers speak on the importance of having family devotions.

I always wondered why family devotions were so important
because my father spoke about the Bible
on a regular basis.
He was not constrained by a set time for it.

Car rides were his family devotions.

He spoke about the ways of God when we sat around the table,
at home or at a restaurant table,
often having strangers at nearby tables
join in if they were also Christians,
or ask a question or two
if they could not resist the urge.

He made people laugh and feel comfortable.
Waitresses and waiters rarely left without laughter
and then a nice sized tip for enduring his teasing.
He was a friend,
so his words were not rehearsed or programmed.
He spoke from his heart.

But the thing I remember now,
when I wake in the morning and see the new day shining with the sun through my window,
is the reality of God,
that He is there
waiting to hear from me,
waiting to speak to me through His book.


(Saute the garlic...yum!) 

And the words I hear my father say,
in my mind,
are the words he spoke to me on countless car rides.

"What has God said to you lately?"

I knew what he meant.
He wanted to know if any Bible verses I had read lately had stood out to me.
He wanted to hear me speak,
not preach a sermon at me.
The important moments in my soul
were the treasures he wanted to find out.
It was his way of checking up on me,
to make sure that I was not only reading my Bible,
but that I was taking a "nugget" with me,
something God wanted for me for that time.

(Pour in the clams and add the spices.  Simmer.)

Dad always made me feel important,
to himself and to God
(and still does).
He took the time to guide my thoughts and questions
to better understand the ways of God.
He was shepherding my heart.

So now when the days stretch by
and my Bible has sat for a few days untouched,
and my soul begins to feel tired and anxious,
I hear his voice...

"What has God said to you lately..."
 I find my Bible, because I know it is what I need,

and I'm thankful that he asked.

Spaghetti with Clam Sauce,
a recipe from my mom,
my dad's favorite.

Linking up to:

Spaghetti and Clam Sauce

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