June 22, 2010

Gary wasn’t coming home for dinner. Someone needed computer help, so he was making another housecall this evening. I scanned the refrigerator for leftover possiblities. Salad. Good choice; I’d had meat at lunch. And there sat a container full of baby-cut carrots. Gary doesn’t like cooked carrots, but he wasn’t home. So I got out the steamer basket and tossed the carrots in, put them in a pan of water and turned on the burner. But then I made a mistake.

I left the room without setting the timer. Sauntering back in the bedroom, I sat down in my “corner office” and opened a Word file. Typing merrily away, I smelled something. I looked at the clock. An hour had passed. What was that smell?

Then I remembered the carrots. Dashing to the kitchen, I found my copper-clad boiler now solid black.  Ebony ooze bubbled in the drip pan. Flipping off the gas, I took the pan from the stove and set it in the stainless steel sink. Carefully lifting the lid, I found my steamed carrots, except for a little char on the bottom, none the worse for wear! But now they were roasted instead of steamed.

The poor pan looked hopeless. I just knew I’d have to throw it away. Tarry crust coated its inside.  But I filled it with soapy water, chopped up the carrots in my salad and sat down to supper.

After the meal, I tackled my pan. To my great surprise, after a little scrubbing the scorched copper shed its black casing and shone brighter than ever! And the inside responded to steel wool and came out looking like new. The drip pan came clean as well.

I thought how like me that poor old pot is. No matter how crusted over I get with worry, anger, resentment or a pan full of other things I let boil dry, God can polish off that filth and reveal something beautiful. I reckon I’ve been through a whole box of spiritual Brillo pads, but He seems to have plenty. And it isn’t fun getting cleaned up. Wouldn’t I be better off not to allow those things to cook so long?

Next time I’ll remember to set the timer. Or maybe I’ll just eat my carrots raw.


One Response to “Scorched!”

  1. paul merrill Says:

    Great analogy, Jenny!

    I think I’ve gone through a CASE of spiritual Brillo pads.

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