When Lasagna Rocks Your World

If you're anything like me, you have a strong tendency to focus on your weaknesses, those inadequacies that glare at you in the mirror or get highlighted by some amazing, capable, got-it-all-together friend who you force yourself to love despite the painful comparisons you make.

No? This isn't you? 

Well, you can stop reading then. 

You don't need me. 

For the rest of you, maybe there is something here 

that God would have you hear. 

Today, the most simple act of kindness rocked my world. But not because of the kindness itself, but because of the brokenness that it put in 

a spot light for me. 

Today, a friend wanted to bless 

us with dinner. 

In a house full of male, teen eaters, with manly appetites, this is ALWAYS a blessing. 

Always. 

But today was different. 

Today, the amazing meal in question was a lasagna with salad. 

A FROZEN Lasagna- 

With NO instructions. 

So, in my culinary ignorance, I innocently text the person responsible for getting the meal to me and asked how I should cook it. 

She advised 1 hour at 375 degrees, check and uncover till cheese is browned on top. 

Seemed reasonable to me, so I thanked her and added my normal excuse, 

"Tom was the chef in the family"

That was when it happened. 

I crumbled. 

Sitting in the church parking lot waiting for 3 of the boys to finish band class, I absolutely lost it. 

Every single flaw, inadequacy, and bit of brokenness flooded over me in that moment.

I couldn't stop crying.  

I couldn't even cook a stinkin' frozen lasagna without help! 

But, here's the thing. 

It wasn't about the lasagna. 

It was about the painful reminder that I no longer had Tom here to fill in my gaps. 

I never had to cook. I never had to know what temperature to cook a lasagna, or anything else for that matter. 

On those rare occasions that I needed to cook, I could READ THE DIRECTIONS. 

But today, there were no directions. 

There was no Tom. 

There was just me. 

And in that moment, I not only saw my ignorance with cooking, but every other single flaw I possess. 

I saw everything that now was right in front of me, all those things that Tom made better. 

I saw my impatience and my temper. 

I saw my grief and my fatigue. 

I saw my frustration and I realized that there is a reason I have these gaps. 

There is a reason that God lovingly reminded me of them today. 

You see, I don't think that these things, these reminders, are always from the enemy. 

I believe there are times when our loving Father needs us to recognize our weakness so that we have no choice left 

but to cling to him. 

All my type A peeps will testify that 

one of the worst feelings in the world is to feel weak. 

I hate being broken. 

I hate feeling that I'm not enough and will never be enough for my kids. 

I hate feeling that without their father, we are all missing some vital part of our lives that can never be replaced. 

But I know that I am not alone. 

I know that the God who called him home has not left us and that if he needed me to be enough, he would have made it so.

If I needed to be a fabulous cook, 

I would be.  

So for all of you who aren't enough either, 

join me in praising God for your weaknesses. 

Praise Him for being enough, for being sufficient. 

There are many days that I simply cannot fathom why God chose me, of all people, to be a single mom to these children, but I will trust Him. 

I will trust that no matter how broken I may be, that He didn't get this wrong and that He will give me what I need and what they need to fulfill His purposes for their lives. 

So go on and sew that button back on with the wrong colored thread, tell your sons you want to "make a goal" while 

you are shooting hoops, 

admit that you have NO IDEA what the answer to that calculus question is, because it's ok to get it wrong. 

It's ok if you aren't enough. 

What you ARE, is exactly who God intended you to be and the perfect parent for your kids. 

And the lasagna? 

It eventually cooked and it was great!