I often find that my kitchen easily transforms into a sanctuary. It’s a place of worship, confessions, and thanksgiving. I feed my family and friends, but I also feed their souls.
Soapy hands reach to cleanse dirty dishes, scrub pots and wipe a little face. Pausing for a moment but sometimes minutes. Slowing to rhythms of peacefulness- watching birds feed, mourning doves fly, traffic moving into town, and joggers going by.
Lots of prayers come from my kitchen. Prayers for friends, and family. Prayers to ease suffering, prayers for the healing of our nation, prayers for a new focus, prayers of thanksgiving, prayers to forgive, for more energy to do things I feel inadequate for or lack of energy.
Busy hands can still pray while kneading dough, baking cakes, making coffee, or scrubbing floors. Busy hands guide little fingers prodding and poking in drawers and cupboards keeping them from hurts.
My kitchen sanctuary has a beautiful view. Sunrises are the best, but evening sunset color gently plays off the clouds, making a beautiful canvas for the day’s end. A time to sit out on the patio and reflect, sometimes a time for tears.
My kitchen is a sanctuary.
-Joining you all in your daily sanctuary, where ever they might be. Amen