How to Change Making Meals from a Chore to a Blessing

I have a drawer of aprons.

But to be honest, it stays closed most of the time. Sure, if it’s a messy job, I pull one out. And a festive Christmas apron, that a dear friend gave me, wraps me in her friendship from afar every time I tie the bow in the back. But a post about aprons shared with me opened my eyes to what I have been missing:

I’ve replaced an apron with oven mitts to hold love found in a hot dish.

I’ve chosen mindfulness of germs instead of the warmth found in my apron to wipe away tears that looked up at me for reassurance.

I’ve not put on my ‘uniform’ to ready myself when I enter the holy place of serving my family in my kitchen.

What if the simple act of putting on an apron would remind us of the nourishment that comes from provision?

The Hand that provides our food carries a promise. He will provide all our needs (see Philippians 4:19). This new routine could cause a pause to be intentional:

As we put on our aprons to prepare a meal, we prepare our hearts to serve those whom we love the most.

And is a reminder that:

We are His hands and feet right here in our kitchen.

His provision becomes our preparation. Becomes the nurturing that flows through the hands that prepare it. A conduit of His care and of His love.

What if we see making a meal for our families (and for ourselves) as a Holy offering of thanks to the Giver and to whom we give?

Not a chore but a privilege?

Not a time stealer but an act of blessing?

Don’t we feel some days that we wish we had more time to give more of ourselves to those we love? But sigh at the thought, and carry on to the next task.

Maybe what we are already doing really can be a labor of love rather than an obligation.

And all that changes is us. Bringing a bit of Peace to the table.

Got an apron stuffed in the back of a drawer somewhere?

Pull it out and put it on wrinkled.

We are getting dressed to bless. As we tie it snug, let’s pray for those to whom we prepare for. Prepare with. The food and the task aren’t changing. But the flavor in which it is put on the table may just be the new ingredient we need. Because as we give what has been given to us, the blessing reciprocates. And we release our families to carry the torch and ignite another.

I pulled out a vintage gingham apron today. It has been squished in the back of the drawer, hidden. Its value, revalued. A legacy of a grandma’s stitching and giving passed forward to me. Each stain, represents a gift to a recipient. And is an inspiration to create a legacy of stains myself.

What are your cherished apron memories?
Share them with us in the comments below. Or share a picture of your beloved apron and inspire the rest of us to put on our uniform.

Let’s proudly wear our wrinkled and stained aprons. Knowing in the act of preparing the provision, is a promise to nourish body and soul, including our own.