It’s been a long time friends. But, I’ve been busy! There have been books and Endow studies and a whole lot of Instagram posts, which are faster and easier to write than blog posts when you only have one free hand and a ginormous toddler sleeping on you. One day, when I have both hands back, I hope to return to writing more in this little corner of the Internet. But, I’m kind of hoping that will be a while! We’re in the process of trying for a second adoption—hopefully a more peaceful process than last time around, but that’s up to God. I did want to pop on here, though, and let my non-Instagram/Facebook followers know about my newest project, an e-cookbook and essay collection, called Around the Catholic Table: 77 Recipes for Easy Hospitality and Everyday Dinners, which I wrote for a very special cause.
You know what’s not easy?
Dealing with mortgage lenders. Also, finding contractors who actually show up when they say they will to give you an estimate. And most of all, staying off Facebook when you have 101 opinions about the recent election that need expressing, but also a dozen different deadlines that need meeting.
You know what else isn’t easy? Blogging and moving houses at the same time. It’s kind of like patting your head and rubbing your belly. Only harder.
Regardless, now that Facebook is moving on from the “Trump versus Clinton” debate to the Gilmore Girls’ “Dean versus Jess versus Logan” debate (I’m an ABD girl: Anyone But Dean), the publishers and I have decided that maybe it’s time for us to start talking about the little project that kept me hopping all last spring…
The Catholic Table: Finding Joy Where Food and Faith Meet is here It’s bee-yoo-tee-ful! And it makes the perfect Christmas gift for anyone you know who likes to cook…or eat…or support the Help Emily and Chris Put Heat and Electricity in the Attic Where They’ll Be Living for the Next Four Months Fund. Continue reading
It matters because it nourishes our bodies and nourishes our souls.
It matters because it draws friends and family together, around one table, creating community over a shared loaf of bread.
Above all, it matters because two thousand years ago, God became Man. He lived, loved, then died upon a cross. And every day since that day, bread has become God. Wheat and wine have become Body and Blood, an eternal sacrifice of love, offered for us on a table like no other.
In that sacrifice—that Holy Eucharist—we see God for who he is: a generous Lover, a selfless Giver. In that same Holy Eucharist, we see food for what it is: a sign given to us at creation of blessing and gift, nourishment and strength, pleasure and comfort, sacrifice and love.
Just to see those truths, however, is never enough. With the seeing, comes two challenges.
First, we’re challenged to love God with the same total, selfless love with which he loves us, becoming, in effect, a gift, for him and for others.
And second, we’re called to eat eucharistically (eucharistia meaning, literally, “thanksgiving)—honoring God, creation, and the gift of our bodies by approaching every meal with gratitude, temperance, and joy.
Around my dining room table, those two challenges perpetually intersect. People come for dinner and come back for community. We pray. We debate. We laugh. And, of course, we eat, all the while learning to better love God and one another.
For me and for the friends who sit around my table, food does what it’s supposed to do: It creates family. And it does that not because I’m some Cordon Bleu trained chef. I’m not. I’m just a woman who wants people to know how precious they are—to me and to God. Because God shows us that truth every day by feeding us with his Body and Blood, I do the same by feeding everyone who walks through my door.
That’s really all I do. I love, so I cook. And it works. In a world wracked by loneliness, where more than half of all Americans claim to have no close friends, a little love and a lot of cooking go a long way.