I’ve always enjoyed sharing my recipes…the ingredients of how I made a relationship with Holy Spirit and how others can too. But the risk in sharing my cookbook is that the directions can be misread or misinterpreted like the time I accidentally scooped powdered sugar instead of flour.
One missed step, one wrong brand, or one missing ingredient can ruin the whole process. All of a sudden a friend is claiming she’s “not a baker” all because of a failed recipe. The hearts who trusted God but doubt entered in and they renounced their conversion to faith. Fear of failure overtook the confidence they once carried.
I could hold onto my recipes and deem them as “secret” or “for family only” forcing the hungry to come eat at my table…coddling my control and delighting in my hidden knowledge, convincing others that I was born to bake and sorrowful that God had not gifted them with the same.
Or I could take a risk and expose the tools that I was taught to keep a heart and belly full. I could give away what has delighted my hands to prepare and what has sweetened my lips.
Because I was made to share, not to hoard… To teach, not just feed… To tell, not keep quiet… To expose, not keep secrets. Because others deserve the gift to not just taste or come with forks ready but to grasp for themselves the privilege of hosting their own meal. They should find the worth in messing up, starting over, consistency, full attention, complete effort, stocking the cupboards, buying the ingredients, for the reward of knowing, feeding and giving so that one day, they can share their own recipe of how they formed deep friendship with God.
Everyone cooks differently but our desire is all the same…to cook something so delicious that it calls people to the table to eat and enjoy.