Love is like Mushroom Risotto #LovelikeJesus 1.

Love is patient. ( 1 Cor. 13:4 )

Dear Amber:

I am so tired of waiting. My prayers seem to no avail, as I wait on God to help a relationship that has grown hard and cold. I feel like curling up in a ball and giving up. What should I do?

Dear Sweet Sister:

My arm felt heavy as I continued to stir the mushroom risotto well past the 25 minutes promised in the recipe. I yearned to cook a rare homemade meal for my husband and my son who was visiting during Christmas break and I decided to try something new. Since I love to order mushroom risotto at restaurants, I decided to give it a try. The secret is to slowly add the boiling stock one ladle at time and to keep stirring and Stirring and stirring. The goal it that the Arborio rice when bitten will be “Al Dente”which means: soft on the outside and firm in the middle. (not too hard on the outside and not too soft either..think goldilocks and how she kept trying to find “just the right bowl, chair and bed”). Mushroom risotto requires the diligence of stirring while tasting and not leaving the stove until it is JUST RIGHT.

I almost gave up. I started to doubt myself. Maybe I didn’t follow the directions correctly I thought to myself. We had another new dish (chicken) that was now sitting on the counter getting cold. Maybe I should just give up and call it quits. I kept tasting the risotto and the rice was grainy and hard. Ten more minutes past the recipe range and I was still stirring.

And then my husband came downstairs to see how things were coming along. He took over the stirring. He kept adding water and stirring and tasting some more. Finally, after 10 more minutes of “long-suffering:)” the risotto was Al Dente. The rice felt so soft on the tongue that it seemed like creamy puffy pasta. Yet the final product was firm enough so that the rice was not mushy and each morsel distinct. The flavors of mushroom and chicken stock blended together perfectly. So delicious and so. worth. the. wait.

So how does this help me Amber with this friend who now won’t speak to me? or This spouse who will not forgive me and is giving me the cold shoulder and silent treatment? Oh and the long suffering of having a child who has such a hard heart and acts so angry at me after I have given so much?

Oh Dear Sister…..your loved ones heart is like the risotto rice kernel that still needs to be stirred. Keep Standing, add some liquid love of kindness, and patiently keep praying for them. I needed my husband to help me along so I didn’t give up. Find a sister to pray with you for your loved one. Stir together in prayer on the phone after sharing your aching heart. Be on guard that your own heart does not become hard but instead trust God’s recipe of Love. My challenge for you this year of 2019 is for you to read I Corinth. 13:4-8 every morning. Read it slow and mediate on this powerful recipe of how to change hardened hearts to perfect Al Dente ones. Ask God for help on how to better love your friends and family. Ask him for the perseverance to not give up and to keep stirring until the hard shell of your loved ones heart becomes soft. (toward you and most of all soft to God and His will)

Don’t leave the stove sister because your loved ones’ heart IS slowly softening. Keep stirring and ask a trusted sister to stir with you. We sisters need each other.

The first ingredient for Love is patience. The last secret ingredients are these: Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres,

Love. Always.Wins.


The Day the Drycleaners Held my Clothes Hostage and My claws Came Out

It all started innocently enough. My husband was out of town, so I took over the dry cleaning for him as this normally was something he took care of. We had been using this dry cleaner for over 20 years which is owned and operated by an Asian couple who still struggled with English but have faithfully worked to run their own business year after year.

The female store owner recognized me but she didn’t seem interested in small talk. “Phone number? ” She demanded in broken English.

I gave her my husband’s cell. She seemed irritated when it didn’t work.  Next, I next gave her my cell. It didn’t work either. I then gave her our old home number that we don’t use anymore.

I just wanted to drop off the clothes. I gave her my husband’s cell again.

Then she started to ask me something that I couldn’t make out. She seemed offended that I didn’t understand her and as her frustrated rose  she walked away from the counter. When she came back, I asked if I could pick it all up by Saturday (3 days later) as we both were going out of town on Monday. (I didn’t realize how early at the time) This is the first time I’ve ever asked for a specific day, but I needed the dresses for the convention.

“can’t do that “, she said stubbornly.

“Ok” I said bowing down…” How about early Monday?”

She said 8am. Problem averted I thought. I’ll just pick up the clothes early Monday even though they are closed on Sunday and the clothes would most likely be done on Saturday. It’s fine, I thought. She must have been having a bad day.

Chatting with my husband later that day, he informed me that we were leaving early (like 7am early on Monday).

“No!”  I thought. I need to go back and face this bitter, unhappy women?  I need to ask her for a favor? I started to make a game plan as I drove over. I would ask her nicely after I give her the old phone number that she still has in her computer. I would apologize and take blame for not knowing what number was in her system. And if she wasn’t able to help me? I would ask for the clothes back and have them cleaned at our hotel.

“Hello”, I smiled as I walked in.

“clothes are not ready” she barked out without a smile.

“I know” I said still smiling “I found out from my husband the number you have in your computer . I’m so sorry as it is a 20 year old number.” She put it in as I waited to ask her for my request.

“So I just realized that we are leaving at 7 am on Monday morning. I was wondering if I could please pick up the clothes on Saturday?”

“No..can’t do that”

“Then can I have my clothes back?” I countered.

“No…they all mixed up back there…I no can find them”.

I tried to remain calm but part of me was thinking of calling for backup. Like 911 backup. I could feel the tension rise as my face felt flush and the claws in my hands started coming out.

“Can’t you use the numbers on the receipt to find them?   I inquired. “Those are my property”.

We were at a standstill. My clothes were now held hostage and like two cowboys in a western film we both had our hands on our weapons. And so  I tried a different tactic.

“20 years”.  I said with pleading eyes and a questioning voice.

She just looked at me …we both had our paws out, claws ready.

So I then tried my last resort plan.  I made a threat.  “If you don’t help me, my husband won’t come here anymore.”

She agreed that I could pick them up at 5 pm.

“Not one minute earlier”  she said.

And then she gave an explanation of her frustration in rapid execution, but I could only make out the phrase, “it is smelly back there.” ..then she turned around and with her back to me she put up her right hand in a “never mind you wouldn’t understand” wave.

“You both work very hard,” I said…she didn’t turn around.

Driving  away my heart grew increasingly sad and heavy. I would receive the clothes earlier and I didn’t need to call the police; but I started to put myself in her shoes and the Holy Spirit began to convict me.

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