Stirring the Pot of Grace: Finding Peace in Every Ingredient!
- MS
- Feb 27
- 15 min read
I didn’t mean to make it again. But there I was, standing over the mixing bowl, throwing in a cup of Comparing Myself to Others, a hefty scoop of Feeling Behind in Life, and just a dash, okay, maybe a heap, of What If I’m Not Enough?
I stirred it, sighing. It was the same old recipe I kept making, even though it never turned out right.
Just as I was about to pop it into the oven of Trying Really Hard, Jesus walked into the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. He picked up my recipe card, raising an eyebrow. “This again?”
I crossed my arms. “It’s all I know,” I replied, my voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of vulnerability.
The cool air around us embraced us, thick with the possibilities ahead.
He shook His head, chuckling. “Well, no wonder you’re always hungry.”
His voice was light and playful yet held an unmistakable warmth.
Then, reaching into His apron pocket (because, yes, Jesus has an apron, obviously), He pulled out a new card and slid it across the counter, softly echoing in the quiet room.
" Why don’t you give this one a try." He suggested, His eyes twinkling with anticipation.
I blinked back tears. Maybe, just maybe, I had been following the wrong recipe all along. And today, it was time to start fresh.
The most challenging aspect of my healing journey was not the physical pain or the emotional burden; it was the profound process of confronting the depths of my own soul and facing myself.
I had to bravely confront the deeply ingrained beliefs that shaped my reality, along with the tangled web of lies I had told myself over the years. It took immense courage to bring these shadows into the illuminating light of Jesus' love, where they could be transformed and healed.
As I gently opened my heart, I allowed that Divine light to shine upon the darker corners of my soul, bathing them in warmth and clarity.
It took immense courage to unearth these buried truths, hidden beneath layers of fear and doubt, and bathe them in the radiant light of Jesus’ love.
That Divine warmth illuminated the shadows within me, inspiring growth and allowing me to embrace my authentic self with renewed strength and purpose.
And some of them happened in the most unexpected places, like a cooking class.
As I stood there, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, I realized how many layers of beliefs I had built over the years. My mind was cluttered with thoughts of not being enough, needing to prove myself, and fearing that my place, purpose, and worth could somehow be taken from me.
I’ve spent years measuring my value compared to others, believing I had to compete for love, recognition, and belonging.
The fears, insecurities, and thinking patterns that no longer served me had all become a part of my everyday life, like the ingredients I tossed into the pan without a second thought.
But amid the stirring, sautéing, and measuring, Jesus was there.
It wasn’t just a class about food; it was a space where I could face these beliefs, one by one, and bring them to the light.
As I followed each recipe step by step, I realized how much I had tried to control and how I had allowed my fears to dictate the rhythm of my life; I understood that just as overthinking a dish could lead to disaster, allowing fear to take over could derail my progress as well.
But in those quiet moments between chopping and stirring, I knew I had to trust.
I had to lay all the hurt, shame, guilt, and confusion before Him, trusting that He would meet me in that sacred space and offer love that never wavers.
There was no condemnation, just grace, just the gentle whisper of Jesus showing me the way forward, not through fighting or forcing things to be perfect but through surrendering.
I forgave myself for the beliefs that had led me astray, for the ways I had allowed them to define me. And as I let it go, I felt His healing wash over me like a warm, nourishing broth.
I realized that healing wasn’t about fighting my wounds or trying to outrun my fears. It was about surrender, letting go of the need for control, and instead allowing the process to unfold naturally, like the delicious ingredients coming together to create something beautiful. It was about embracing a gentle spirit and discovering the strength in softness rather than the relentless pursuit of effort.
In those moments of stirring the pot, I realized that God never intended for me to be at war with myself. The rhythmic motion of the wooden spoon gliding through the ingredients became a form of meditation, a gentle invitation to embrace the chaos within rather than resist it. I began to understand that the path to inner peace is not found in conflict but in the beautiful blending of all aspects of my being, much like the harmonious flavors coming together in the pot before me.
My body, emotions, and fears were not my enemies. They were simply ingredients waiting to be transformed by love. And as I trusted the cooking process, I began to trust myself. I started to trust that the small voice guiding me through each recipe was His voice, soft, steady, and graceful.
In the quiet hum of the kitchen, I heard God whisper, “You are enough. You are loved. You are safe.” And in that whisper, I found the courage to trust, to trust Him, to trust myself, and to trust the unfolding journey of healing.
These weren’t battles to fight; they were lessons of grace, opportunities to love me as He loves me. Each step of the recipe became a step toward wholeness. As I mixed and measured, I felt drawn closer to Him, closer to the peace He had always promised.
Healing was not just about conquering my pain; it was a profound journey of surrender, a delicate dance of allowing Him to weave His love into the very fabric of my being.
It was about releasing my grip on the past and embracing the transformative power of His presence within me.
Each moment became an opportunity to let go, trust in His process, and welcome His healing touch.
As the meal came together, with the rich aromas filling the air and the flavors melding in harmonious perfection, I, too, was being restored.
I realized that I wasn’t broken; I was being made whole in His perfect love, each experience adding to the beautiful tapestry of my life, one simple step at a time.
In this journey, I discovered a deep well of comfort and resilience within myself. As I navigated through the challenges and uncertainties, each moment of surrender became an opportunity for growth.
I began to uncover the essence of who I truly am as I shed the layers of my former self, the masks I had worn for too long.
With each layer that fell away, I felt a profound freedom, embracing the vibrant, authentic person I was always meant to be. This realization filled me with a renewed sense of purpose and a profound connection to my true self, illuminating the path ahead with endless possibilities.
The kitchen was warm and inviting, bathed in golden afternoon light. Shelves lined with vibrant spices, flour, and jars of honey whispered of endless possibilities. A wooden table, dusted with flour, stood at the center, ready for the magic of baking to unfold. The delightful scent of sweet vanilla, warm cinnamon, and freshly baked bread lingered in the air, filling the heart with hope and the promise of something extraordinary.
Jesus stood at the counter, rolling up His sleeves, a playful smile dancing at the corners of His mouth.
He wore an apron with the words “Fearfully and Wonderfully Made” embroidered on the front.
A chalkboard leaned against the wall, its surface alive with words written in Jesus’ graceful handwriting: “Today’s Lesson: The Recipe for Enough.”
I glanced at the title, then at Jesus, who was adjusting His apron, a playful smile tugging at the corners of His mouth.
“A cooking lesson?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded, “Comparison is an old recipe you’ve been using for far too long,” He said. “It’s time to cook something new.”
I stepped closer, glancing at the ingredients on the table. Bowls filled with sugar, butter, and flour sat next to measuring spoons and a recipe card. But something felt off. In the corner of the table, I noticed a second stack of ingredients I didn’t recognize.
Jesus followed my gaze and nodded knowingly. “Ah, those. That’s what you’ve been using in your old recipes.”
As I slowly picked up a jar labeled "Comparison," I couldn't help but notice the fine powder inside. It appeared harmless, with a soft, muted hue, yet it felt surprisingly heavy in my hands, almost as if it carried the weight of countless judgments.
Beside it stood another jar labeled "Scarcity, Fear There’s Not Enough for Me." The words seemed to loom threateningly, amplifying the tension in the air. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for a third jar labeled "Competing for Love and Approval." The name alone stirred up a whirlwind of emotions, evoking memories of moments spent chasing validation.
Each jar represented a burden I had carried, and their presence filled me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
My stomach knotted. “Jesus… this is what I’ve been baking with?”
He nodded, wiping His hands on a kitchen towel. “And tell Me… has it ever satisfied you?”
I shook my head. “No. No matter how much I do and how hard I try, it’s never enough. I look at what others are doing, their successes, and their gifts, and I feel behind. Like I have to catch up. Like I have to prove I belong. Instead of embracing a gentler approach, I find myself pushing harder, thinking that if I just try a bit more, I'll finally reach that seemingly unattainable standard. In my relentless pursuit of goals and achievements, I frequently neglect the crucial importance of pausing, taking a deep breath, and granting myself the grace to simply exist at the moment. It’s easy to get lost in the hustle. In a world that constantly pressures us to strive for perfection and validate our worth through our achievements, it’s easy to lose sight of the deep love and grace that awaits me. Still, I am beginning to realize that there is profound value in those quiet moments of reflection, where I can appreciate the beauty of just being."
Jesus leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “That’s because this recipe was never meant to nourish you. It was designed to keep you striving, not thriving.”
I shifted uneasily on my feet, the weight of my thoughts pulling me down. “Jesus… why does it feel like there’s not enough? Not enough room, not enough love, not enough opportunities. I watch others, and a deep sense of urgency washes over me. I feel an unmistakable pressure to push myself harder and strive for more, yet despite my efforts, I can't shake the feeling that I'm still falling short. There are moments when a nagging doubt creeps in, making me question whether I’m truly putting in the effort I ought to. It often feels like I will be left behind if I am not striving more. It’s like I’m caught in an endless race I never signed up for, scrambling to carve out my own space in a world that seems to thrive on competition. The gnawing fear takes hold, whispering that if I don’t fight fiercely for what I desire, I’ll be left with nothing but the haunting specter of dreams unfulfilled and potential wasted.” I let out a soft sigh, a sound heavy with frustration and weariness.
"And then there’s the belief that we’re running short on everything, time, resources, opportunities. Even though I know I’m wired for success, the world often seems to program us for failure, instilling a sense of scarcity that looms over us. This pervasive mindset makes it easy to overlook the abundance that does exist. It fosters an anxiety that constantly pushes me to do more. It’s a battle against not just the external pressures but also the internal narrative that suggests I must be in relentless pursuit because, in a world painted with the brush of limitation, the fear of missing out hangs heavily in the air.”
Jesus offered a soft, gentle smile, His eyes sparkling with warmth and compassion that seemed to envelop me like a comforting embrace. He understood the depths of my struggles, His presence radiating an assurance that I was not alone in my challenges.
"That’s because this recipe was never intended to provide true nourishment; instead, it was meticulously crafted to keep your ambitions ignited, encouraging you to keep striving forward rather than settling into a life of mere love and trust."
Jesus smiled gently and gestured toward the counter, where an array of ingredients was laid out. “Let’s bake something new today. And here is the way you and I will do it. Follow My Lead.”
Whisk 1: Unveiling the Old Recipe!
"Let’s embark on a tasty treasure hunt to uncover the old ingredients!" He reached for a weathered, crumpled recipe card, its edges frayed and stained from years of use and carefully passed it to me. “This is the one you’ve been following.”
I smoothed it out, reading the list of ingredients:
• One cup of Measuring Myself Against Others
• Two tablespoons of Fear of Being Overlooked
• A dash of Believing I Have to Earn My Place
• A spoonful of Scarcity Mindset
• A pinch of Doubting God’s Timing
• Two tablespoons of Seeking Validation
• A dash of Competing to Prove My Worth
• A spoonful of Feeling Behind in Life
• A pinch of Self-Doubt.
I exhaled. Yeah… this looks familiar.” Jesus leaned against the counter. “And what does this recipe create?”
I scanned to the bottom: A dish that never satisfies.
I nodded slowly. “No matter how much I do, it never feels like enough.” Jesus tilted His head. “Because it was never meant to.”
Whisk 2: Tearing Up the Old Recipe. Throwing Out the Spoiled Ingredients.
He handed me a pen. “Write one more thing on that paper.” He urged, His voice steady yet insistent.
I hesitated before scribbling: This is not the truth.
Jesus grinned. “Now, rip it up.”
I clutched the paper for a moment, my heart racing. Then, with a deep breath, I tore it in half. The ripping sound filled the kitchen, and something inside me released.
Then He picked up a trash bin and put it in front of me. “Go ahead,” He said, holding out His hands. “Throw away that recipe card you ripped up. It's time to let go of that no longer serves you.”
I hesitated, unsure about discarding the remnants of my past, but with a deep breath, I summoned the courage to let go. I threw it away, feeling a sense of unexpected liberation.
Then He pointed to the jar labeled 'Comparison' beside the bin. “And that too,” He urged gently.
I looked at the jar of Comparison; it was labeled with names, faces, achievements, and things I thought I needed to reach before I could feel enough.
“If I let this go… how will I know I’m doing okay?” Jesus placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll know by the peace inside you, not how you measure up to someone else.”
I took a deep breath and tipped the jar, watching the toxic powder spill into the bin. One by one, I threw away the rest:
• The fear of not being seen.
• The belief that I need to prove my worth.
• The habit of scrolling and feeling behind.
The weight on my chest began to lift. Jesus nodded approvingly. “Good. Now, let’s bake something new.”
Whisk 3: Creating a New Recipe. Gathering the Right Ingredients. Baking the Truth.
"Let's venture on an inspiring journey to uncover a treasure trove of flavors!" He revealed a beautifully crafted recipe card, the title elegantly penned in His steady, graceful handwriting, each letter flowing seamlessly into the next, hinting at the culinary magic that awaited within.
“The Recipe for Confidence, Receiving & Trust”
I read the ingredients aloud:
1. A foundation of Identity in Christ. Fold in Identity Rooted in Christ. – “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139:14). Start with a base of knowing you have already been chosen. – “You did not choose me, but I chose you.”(John 15:16)
2. A cup of Gratitude for Your Own Path – “Give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)
3. A spoonful of Celebration of Others – “Rejoice with those who rejoice.” (Romans 12:15)
4. A dash of Trust in God’s Timing – “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
5. Stir in Your Unique Flair, Whisking Up a Purpose That's All You!–– “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10)
6. Stir in joy and trust in God’s fabulous plan, because life is a delightful recipe – “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
7. Bake with Confidence in God’s Abundance. – “He has made everything beautiful in its time.”(Ecclesiastes 3:11)
I took a deep breath, the butterflies in my stomach doing a little dance as my mind raced.“But what if someone else has already snatched up the dream I’m pursuing? What if my special spot is already booked, leaving me to do the awkward shuffle on the sidelines?”
Jesus smiled, lifting a fresh loaf of bread from the oven. “Look at this.”
I watched as He carefully broke the loaf in half, steam rising from its soft center. He handed me a piece.
“Eat”. He said, His voice warm and inviting. I took a bite. The warmth spread through me, filling every empty space inside. It was rich and satisfying, different from the empty feeling comparison always left behind.
Jesus tilted His head slightly, His gaze piercing and full of understanding. "Did you have to fight for that piece?" He inquired, a hint of curiosity in His tone.
I shook my head, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. "No... You just gave it to me," I replied, the simplicity of the moment wrapping around me like a soft blanket.
His expression softened as He nodded. "That's how My kingdom works," He explained, His voice steady and reassuring. "There is always enough. You don’t have to battle for your place at the table; I’ve already set one just for you, overflowing with love and grace."
Whisk 4: Speaking a New Agreement. Tasting the Truth.
Jesus handed me a blank piece of paper with a twinkle in His eye. “Alright, let’s rewrite the script, write this instead!”
With a newfound confidence, I grabbed the pen, feeling my hands steady:
• I agree that my worth is not measured by comparison.
• I agree that my purpose is as unique as a secret recipe and can’t be stolen by anyone else.
• I agree that God’s timing is impeccable; He masterfully orchestrates every moment perfectly!
• I agree that God's plan has plenty of space for everyone to shine.
• I agree that I don’t have to compete for love, approval, or my purpose.
I signed my name at the bottom. Jesus nodded. “Now say it out loud.”
My voice wavered, but I read each line aloud. As I kept going, things started to change. The weight of Comparison and competition loosened its grip. The lie that I had to strive and fight for my worth dissolved like sugar in warm tea.
Whisk 5: Enjoying the Truth.
Jesus placed a freshly baked pastry in front of me, its golden crust glistening under the soft light of the kitchen. “Go ahead, taste it,” He encouraged, His smile radiating warmth and reassurance.
I took a bite. The flavors burst on my tongue; they were sweet, rich, and whole, different from the bland, unsatisfying taste of constant striving. This was different; this was enough; it was fulfilling.
I glanced at Jesus, my heart swelling with warmth and gratitude.
“I don’t have to compare myself to others anymore, do I?
He shook His head gently, the kindness in His eyes comforting. “No, love. You never did.”
At that moment, I sighed deeply, feeling a wave of joy wash over me that eased the burden I had been carrying. "I don’t have to push myself harder or strive so much; I can cook at my own pace. I can take a gentler approach and focus on my own journey of healing and growth." As I let out a sound of release, I felt a warmth surrounding me, knowing that Jesus Himself was pleased with my newfound perspective. It felt as though He was gently reminding me that it was okay to embrace the journey, prioritize my well-being, and find joy in the simple moments of life.
I leaned against the counter, the remnants of the old, crumpled recipe of comparison and competition, trying hard and striving, dissolving like batter in a mixing bowl.
The oppressive weight of anxiety and the fear of inadequacy that had clung to me began to slip away like flour through a sieve, giving way to a far more profound revelation: the exhilarating truth that I am already enough in all my imperfections. There’s no need to be a relentless taskmaster on myself; instead, I can happily dive into the delightful art of resting and sprinkle my efforts with a dash of softness. By crafting this cozy, nurturing space, I open a magical gateway to let my true self sparkle and dance. In this playful haven, I can explore the whimsical sides of my potential and watch as I bloom in ways that are both surprising and joyful!
As I took a deep, cleansing breath, the air around me transformed, filled with a new aroma that danced in the kitchen like a warm embrace. It was the scent of golden caramel melting on the stove, intertwined with the soft, earthy notes of freshly baked bread.
This aroma was not just inviting; it was a playful hug, a gentle nudge from Jesus reminding me that serenity and healing are only a whisk away.
It smelled like peace, healing, home, wrapped in the sweet, familiar vibes that can only be found in the heart of a home.
My dear beloved reader, you can claim your sacred space in this vast, beautiful world, not because you need permission, but because you were created for it.
Let me remind you: this world is your kitchen, and you don’t need a permission slip to claim your spot at the stove! You are like a master chef, surrounded by a collection of recipes and cookbooks, ready to create something extraordinary.
You are Grounded in Truth, Nourished by Grace, and Blossoming under the warmth of Divine Love.
Your beauty is not diminished by another’s inability to see it, and your worth does not depend on someone else’s recognition. Just because someone is skimming through their culinary guide and can’t see your unique ingredients doesn’t mean they aren’t there! Your worth isn’t for sale, so don’t let anyone negotiate it down.
You were placed here on purpose and for a purpose. So, stand tall. Shake off any doubts and whip up your best dish! Be your unique, fabulous self! Open yourself fully to life. Bake up some dreamy ideas like you’re crafting the most delicious cake, and remember: you were always meant to add your unique flavor to this big world!
Cook up your dreams boldly and freely because you were always meant to do so.
