Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Move the Milk


Our small group has been discussing the miraculous accounts of Jesus feeding the 5,000 and then the 4,000. Only two gospel writers, Matthew and Mark include the latter story. The question was posed, "Why did these two choose to chronicle the additional event?" I must admit, my first inclination was, "I don't care." I figure if scripture is God-breathed, then you write down what he tells you to write down.

We got back from our holiday trip to Indiana late Saturday, only stopping to pick up milk, bread and stuff for dessert I was scheduled to make for small group the next day. There had been no true grocery shopping done by the time the little birds began opening their mouths, squawking and demanding food upon rising late Sunday. I got a stay of execution from Taco Bell at lunch and then eating with small group for dinner.

I was most happy to be back in my own bed so when Monday morning rolled around I wasn't particularly motivated to get out of my pajamas, much less go shopping. "But there is nothing in this house to eat," I thought. A cup of coffee bought me a couple of hours of procrastination before I began to forage. Upon opening the fridge and moving the milk, I discovered I had about two and a half dozen eggs. And as fortune would have it, some mayonnaise, mustard and sweet pickles. Voila, egg salad sandwiches. It seemed Paul and I would weather the harsh lunch hour.

This piqued my curiosity. I wonder if there is anything else here. I turned to the pantry. Tomato products of every consistency - paste, crushed, diced, rotel, sauce, chili-seasoned, pureed. "Remember when you were a new and good wife and made homemade pasta sauce?" said the mocking voice in my head. No spaghetti, but there was elbow macaroni and lots of it. Back to the fridge. Fresh garlic, onion, and what tub shineth  in yonder back right corner? Why, it is the fair, shaved parmesan from the land of Frigo!

Now I was just getting arrogant as I headed for the freezer. Two half bags of meatballs. In the crisper, spinach, baby carrots, cherry tomatoes. That's like a whole dinner. This is genius, right up there with String Theory. At this point, I am feeling an unspoken mandate to try out for the next season of Survivor.

This new scavenger hunt was intoxicating. The culinary, quadratic equations flooded my mind. Bread + eggs + milk = French Toast. Syrup, check. Oh, look. One and a half boxes of pancake mix. Sliced cheese + bread = Grilled Cheese. Or for style points, tortillas + shredded cheese + half bag of frozen fajita vegetables = Quesadillas.

And when Lucy walked further into the wardrobe, there were four half-filled cereal boxes, four cans of tuna, countless cans of beans, two boxes of cornbread, three packages of frozen vegetables, two boxes of rice, multiple bags of chips, two tv dinners, unopened bags of frozen strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple, two bags of frozen peaches, stuffing mix, two jars of peanut butter, two boxes of ritz crackers, six packages of jello, five packages of pudding mix, two 10/pack boxes of popcorn, a box of grits, a jar of peanuts, one and a half bottles of oil, two packages of flour, three packages of sugar, two packages of croutons, two canisters of oats, two and a half containers of sour cream, multiple packages of shredded cheese, and to soothe the stress of having so little food, a frozen mango daiquiri.

We had a friend over for dinner last night. I made soup and a bundt cake from a pumpkin bread mix. As it would turn out, our guest brought a lovely, lemon icebox pie. And so, the pumpkin bundt cake made a yummy coffee cake for breakfast. There was plenty of soup left over, but our family will be eating at youth group tonight so that will have to wait to be eaten until tomorrow.

So ask me now, why did Matthew and Mark include the feeding of the 4,000, an almost identical and slightly less numerically impressive story than the old five loaves and two fish standard? Because its just so darn fun to see how God provides if we just move the milk and look around a little. And sometimes, there's a mango daiquiri waiting in the corner of your freezer.