"You turned my wailing into dancing;
You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing to You and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give You thanks forever."
Although living through winters here in the Midwest means that we must endure months of drifting blankets of snow that seem to pour from the Creator's hands, in our household also begins the season of cooking and baking comfort foods, one of which includes Gumbo. Proud to be from a long line of Creole women, my childhood during the holidays especially were sitting in my Grandmother's kitchen at the speckled white table and watch, learning as she taught me how to bake cakes, banana pudding and Gumbo from scratch. My Grandmother also never wrote anything down, passing her knowledge along to whomever chose to pause from the hectic world outside and listen to stories about her own childhood growing up in the South. Kneeling at the feet of elders, acknowledging their contributions and heeding their wisdom is unfortunately endangered in today's society.
In a passing conversation with my best friend, she recounted a discussion where someone scoffed at scriptures "Why read this old book? What knowledge could it hold for anyone? There's nothing relevant there!"
Just as the waifing of sweet smells and spices surround our very being, cradling a fresh batch of Apple Brown Sugar muffins or coming in from the frigid and desolate outside and resting one weary soul with a bowl of filling stew so can be a favorite scripture, a sung Psalm or a simple hymn that reverberates within us and gives us the comfort and strength .
God's Peace. Ainsi-soit-il