Leftovers

Dear HH,

One of the themes of our friendship has always been that God only and ever gives us what is best. We've reminded one another of that ten-thousand times—even when what we've been given seems less than best or less than what someone else has. It's easy to remember we have what's best when things are going swimmingly, but it's harder when things seem to be drowning in every direction and we're powerless to stop them.

You and I have a reminder for one another when things are the latter. We tell each other—again—how often times we think we've been asking for fish or for bread, but actually, in God's goodness, he knows what we're asking for is actually a snake or stone. We've said this to one another after break-ups, after financial difficulty, after not getting the house we want, or getting the house we want but having to pay a steep price for it afterwards. We've said it in the face of the crippling nature of fear of man and the opinions of others. After disappointing relationships and being a disappointment to others. It seems for every season of our friendship, our lives even, this reminder has been potent and good.

I'm thinking of this today because it's been a week where I feel like I'm getting the leftovers from God, from others, and from my own expectations. It feels like Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman in Mark 7, and he giving me the crumbs that fall from the master's table. Saving the best for others or for those who really please him or those who he actually promised to give it to.

Last night was our first time to visit a small group since coming here and Mark 7 was the conversation at hand, which seems more than just a coincidence (smirk). Someone mentioned how this orderliness of Jesus was a safeguard for us, a reminder that He does know what's best and what he has actually promised (the gospel was given to the Jew first, and then to the Greek). It was a helpful reminder for me.

Maybe God doesn't intend to give me what I want because I'm actually asking for a snake or stone, but maybe he doesn't intend to give me what I want because it's not the right time for it. Either way, he's good. He never gives leftovers.

You know who does give leftovers, though? I do.

Sometimes you and I talk about how grateful we are that the husbands God gave us are happy to eat leftovers. I know that's not the case for everyone, but I sure am grateful it's the case with ours. Today I finished up a quinoa/spinach/salmon salad I made on Sunday and which we've been eating for the last four days. I think its high point was on Tuesday, but it worked for our lunches up until today.

I chopped 4-5 handfuls of spinach, half a red onion, a bell pepper, a few cloves of garlic, an avocado and threw it all in a big bowl.

I made two cups of quinoa (I might make less next time, not sure) and when it cooled, threw it in the bowl too.

I broiled a small piece of salmon with just salt and pepper (we're trying to do less oil), and then shredded it into the salad.

For the dressing (which I just mixed into the salad for ultimate flavor), I used two TBSP of sesame oil, juice from two limes, a TBSP of tahini, pinch of red pepper flakes, a pinch of salt, and some chopping ginger. Then I mixed it in with the salad.

I woulda served this for dinner if we had guests last night and nobody would've known it was leftovers. Win.

I love you my friend, my bread and fish,

Lo