by Lisa Marie

At last, my long searching has come to an end and I have found the answer to my lifelong question. The mystery is revealed, and the case is closed.

Why do some women love to cook? Because behind their skill deciphering a recipe and prowess with a mixer is the hidden secret of their talent: a darling apron.

All right, perhaps that’s not the only reason… Maybe my mother cooked even before we gave her this darling apron  for Christmas. It could be that she has cooked for our family for twenty-two years simply because she desires to serve God in her home. That could be why she has made meals day in and day out for years now. But she still says that the apron helps a little.

When I wore it the other day, even washing dishes seemed more enjoyable than normal. If I get married some day, I hope to have a bright and cheery kitchen and cute apron to don. Somehow it seems that it would feel more pleasant to clean and cook. Even in the winter, my kitchen would look like spring.

But I suppose homemakers don’t always feel the delightful urge to “whip up a meal” all the time. It worked out perfectly charmingly the other evening. I chopped up the onions in advance, had clear counter space, and cooked the sauce and noodles as if it were a breeze. Can it be more dreamlike? Probably not. Mom even let me borrow her apron (yes, the same one I mentioned earlier—the one which transcends common kitchen duties and makes everything in the room feel precisely perfect).

However, that meal was rather remarkable. No recipe confusion, missing ingredients, or messy kitchen to start out my venture—and I actually had my hair down and a touch of makeup on! To prepare a meal like that is nothing short of a miracle. Usually something happens to at least diminish my plans that sounded quaint and simple at the beginning of the day. Or, if I do turn out with a good eat, my disheveled hair, bare feet, and tired sigh show exactly what I went through to make it.

I suppose that’s probably the way it is with life most of the time, too. Every once in a while, things go just as I planned, the food turns out, the decision is successful, and all the time I’ve been looking radiant (at least as radiant as I get) to top it off.

More often, though, things don’t go quite as I hoped, the meal flops, I look more than a little lopsided, or I make the wrong decision. A couple of my “uff-da” days have had all four components at the same time. “Uff-da” is a Norwegian expression used at our house for “oh, dear!”, “uh-oh!” or the like.

Through it all—the picture-perfect apron days and the uff-da ones—God is good. A song by Matt Redman goes like this:

“Blessed be Your name
When the sun’s shining down on me
When the world’s ‘all as it should be
Blessed be Your name…
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name…”

It’s a song that reminds me that God is worthy of far more than my insufficient praise… I ought to give Him my life—the uff-da days and all.

Lisa is a 20-year-old Christian homeschool graduate whose desire is to live a life filled with joy at home, goodness from God, and enjoyment in the simple things.