Pictured below is the beginning of our second farm-to-table dinner. In the last seven months, I’ve become a farmer-ish, cooker-ish, host-ish person in the last few months. I’ve been a mother, and in only the last week I’ve added wife to those titles. Looking at this photo, I wonder: does that look like much? I read those titles and ask: does that sound like much?
However, when it’s getting dark, and all the tables are set with locally grown tiny orange pumpkins, autumnal-colored gourds the size of your hand, and clean white plates, with twinkle-lights everywhere, and a cool breeze in the air, I hope, I hope, I hope this will be something magical. Simple, seasonal, magical.
In the same way, I want to believe that all those titles, of farming, cooking, hosting, mothering, marriage, and then some – they’re all adding up. They’re more than the sum of their parts. They’re life experience, and life skills. It’s a life, not a job, a concept my new husband constantly reminds me of. This is a concept that I badly want to get my brain and heart around.
Because in this making it up as I go along, pulling it together, with some farming, and some cooking, and some markets, and some dinners, while being a mother, and being, now, a new wife, I’m attempting to build a life of everyday meaning, every day.
I want to give our farm-to-table diners a delicious, beautiful experience. I hope they walk into this big, canopied tent, and all the little parts, the gourds, the lights, the plates, the food: I hope it adds up to something magical for them.
I want to give my family, and myself a delicious, beautiful life. Because it turns out, walking into this big tent of life, this is what lies at the bottom of my heart. A life with my daughter, a life with my husband, a life with my friends, and my parents, a life with our church. A life under God, casting my eyes to everything around me, the cobbled together jobs, the every moment seized with kiddo, the high fives and kisses with the man I married, looking to all these faces I see and love, and saying, “Wow. You give us all this. Delicious. Beautiful.” It doesn’t look like much in pieces and parts, but standing back, with a little distance, it can be magical.
It’s what we’ve got, and it’s enough. I’m hoping you’re able to stand back today, friend, with a little distance, and see all of it, all of these titles and jobs you carry and do, adding up to something delicious. Something beautiful.