I’m not a gourmet cook. I don’t cook things I can’t pronounce. However, I’m well-known in my family for a few things I cook/make well. My sweet tea is almost legendary on my husband’s side. I have a super corn casserole recipe from a Mississippi College cookbook. There is also a spaghetti-like dish I make really well called “Texas Hash.”

Before I explain the significance of Texas Hash and why there is a burnt pot of it in the picture, I’m going to explain something about my writing. A friend asked me a few days ago how I find time to write. I started writing this post last night, and at this moment it is 4:15 am. Writing for me is a form of therapy. I will say that I’m in no way upset about that burnt pot of food, but very mundane things (like burning food) inspire me to write. Sometimes it’s not the big events, but the little annoyances in our lives that try to push us over the edge. I choose to write.

When I was growing up, my Grandmama made Texas Hash. We would always have it with green beans , rolls, sweet tea, and a lime jello dish that had pineapple in the jello and marshmallows on top. She would spread Hellman’s on top of that and then sprinkle cheese. Texas Hash is neat because, unlike spaghetti, the whole dish cooks in one pot… noodles and all. However, one has to watch it carefully and stir every few minutes so as not to burn the noodles.

Last night, I made Texas Hash. As you can gather from the picture, it did not go as planned. I have made this dish for over twenty years, and NEVER once have I burned it. Fortunately, it makes a lot, so there was plenty and I put it in a new pot (to the left). It tasted fine and everyone got fed. How could I be so careless?

The truth is, I wasn’t as careless as I was distracted. See, while it was on the stove burning (I mean, cooking 😂), I was doing laundry, unloading a dishwasher, and taking care of a toddler. My intentions for all of these activities were good, but I wasn’t focused on just one thing. I was pulled in too many directions. All of the activities I was doing were good and worthwhile, but I was putting too much “on my plate”(I’m so sorry about this pun).

God has been putting a word into my heart for about a month now, and that is “intentional.” I have been feeling burned out, just like that that dish last night. In my head, I have literally had an ongoing script. “One more dirty diaper, one more load of clothes, more college paperwork, more work activities…. more, more, more.” It has left me with a feeling of being overwhelmed and under appreciated. Every time I feel this way, I hear Him saying, “Do this for me, not for anyone else.”

The little things are the big things. One more diaper means my toddler is clean and feels loved. One more load of clothes means my family has clothes to wear, one more meal(even if not perfect) means my family is fed. Should we ask for help? Absolutely! Should our families step up and do their part? Of course. But I’m going to remember that in pleasing Him in the little things, I am doing the most important work of all, and it doesn’t have to be perfect.

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