On Sundays I go to church, participate in rituals, and then leave after our worship service and come home. Typically a Sunday's service lasts 3 hours, and I attend the first 70 minutes. The other 2 hours are divided up into Sunday School, and then a men's and a women's meeting.
I'm pretty lonely when I attend the last 2 hours, so I come home and cook, where I choose to be alone. I was reared that service and food are intricately tied together, and I'm a believer that as Christ served others, I should as well. It's a part of my Christian duty as well as my Walker/Weaver/Jensen/Johnson duty and obligation.
When I bake, I think of those I will give goodies to. Not necessarily their reactions to my gifting, but why I want to give to them, and I put my energy and goodness into what I bake. My cooking is not purely generous - I prep and bake and grate and cut and freeze our meals for the week, and typically one more meal to go into the freezer, for a rainy day.
I take advantage of this time - I listen to music (today it's the "Summer Country" channel), and I run through what's happened in the past week, what is planned for the upcoming week, what I need to be prepared for, and I run through the list of those I love, to see how I can reach out. I see this as my meditation time and my silent prayer. I'm most open to the spirit, it seems, when my hands are busy. Often I think about what's grieving me - including children and grandchildren, how I'm going to make time to see them; friends who are going through tough times and transitions, and how I can reach out to them; Scott - and how his needs are always secondary to my needs and wants, and how I can rearrange that to make him a priority.
Whew! All this while in the kitchen!
Today has been no different. I've chosen to bake this Sabbath. I have an abundance of zucchini and bananas, so bread it is! The recipes I use are constant, and I have used them enough to know just how I can adjust them - removing this, adding this (today it's chocolate chips to the b bread and orange and coconut to the now gluten-free z bread). As you can see from the cards, they are well-used, well-loved, and even these recipes bring me solace - I remember who, where, when I received them, and I am on that journey to the past as well as staying in the moment and thinking about the future.
And in doing, even though I'm alone, I'm with those I need to share with. Make sense?
PS - Usually I have Scott distribute the goodies - the introvert in me.