She Cookin'

I saw a woman at a pot. She stood there hand on hip, chin up in deep thought. One of the children around the table had a asked her a question. There we stood, some leaned waiting for pearls of wisdom to drop from her mouth. Others grew restless waiting for an answer but I did not move. Did they not see the lines on her face that scripted a lifetime of lessons. She shook herself back and began to stir the bowl in her abdomen. Like giving birth she released a nugget, a perspective, a salve of wisdom that could carry the recipient for years. Those proverbs etched in her pensive glare. There is something to be said about those who stay, absorb, and digest. She sees the capsule in their eyes that confirms they have been here before. Her recollections of past loves, hurts, joys, and pains a reflection of the revelation she sees in the pupils of this next generation. Yes, we stay and take these morsels. She can smell the oven is done. Now retrieving her myriad of ingredients to add to her bowl. A dash of heart ache. A pinch of tenacity. A dollop of determination. She shares the keys to the tools that helped over come the struggles. No time to play when there is wisdom being shared. She cuts to the heart of the matter. She gives everyone a slice of truth that anchors. There comes a time when words wont articulate. When people wont understand. When no one can help you . But you have an everlasting Friend. She doesn't speak this dessert on a fine pan. Rather she moans this and the hurt is soothed. In times of peace she calls this recipe travailing. She cooks up faith drenched intercession for her family refusing to succumb to the blows of the enemy. She wields her flames and sears the hopelessness of those she feeds. Large portions of flesh mutilated under her culinary craftiness to care for the broken hearted. She cookin and there is more than enough to go around, still some will not sit down.