I have a confession. My husband makes better chocolate chip cookies than I do. “It’s the dough,” he tells me. My cookie dough is always over worked, and my cookies are flat as pancakes. “You shouldn’t use that “thing,” he says. By that “thing,” he means my Kitchen Aid mixer. He calls it the “machine.” And gives me a look when I turn it on.
He turns it off.
“Cookies need love,” he tells me. “You need to get your hands in the dough.” He takes the metal bowl from the mixer, and takes an old-school wooden spoon and mixes the dough. “It’s too hard for me to mix that way,” I tell him. He looks up with his green eyes, sets the spoon down, puts his bare hands into the dough to make sure it’s mixed well. But not over worked.
He pops some into his mouth, “Perfect,” he says with a smile.
I sit at the counter and watch, like a student.
“See Bekah,” he says, “You need to add love,” he tells me. I push my Pampered Chef cookie dough scooper across the counter towards him. He purposefully ignores it. Instead, he takes two metal spoons from the drawer. “Why don’t you just use my scooper?” I ask. He gives me a look, shakes his head. Continues gently scooping with his two metal spoons. Until each one is carefully set on the tray.
And somehow, eight minutes later…his cookies turn out perfect. Every time.
“It’s because I add love,” he tells me. I can’t help but laugh. “Okay,” I say.
But I’ve been thinking about my husband’s cookies lately. I think about them when I’m making chili, adding in the spices, or cutting the tops off the strawberries. I think about them when I’m making the cookie dough. I hear his tender voice in my mind, “Don’t forget to add love.”
So, I do. I shut off the “machine” mode my mind automatically kicks into. And I add love. It’s those moments I stir just a little softer. I put my hands in the dough. I remember who I’m cutting the strawberries for. My daughter who squeals with delight like it’s Christmas morning when I hand her a bowl of them. My husband who will enjoy this dinner tonight, and needs a wife who will laugh across the table from him–and not frown, because she’s so busy doing all the “things.” And I think of my own mama body, that needs this food, these nutrients–to make milk for my baby boy, and energy, to care for this family, and myself–with joy. And to do these things, finding pleasure in them. Because there is this secret, hidden pleasure you feel…when you add love.
And there’s a lump in my throat. Because I know he’s right.
You need to add love. It makes it taste better.
It’s so easy to do it. To get caught in the routine, in the machine.
And sometimes you just get lost in it. The hustle. Like the dough whirling around in the Kitchen Aid mixer, beating hard against it’s metal sides. Because there’s always meals to plan, and food to buy, and cook, and clean off plates, and clothes, that need washed. Going round and round and round–in the machine. Like a carousel you can’t jump off of.
And sometimes you need a strong hand to reach over, and shut the machine off. And remind you to set all your gadgets down. And stick your bare hands in the dough. And…
Remember to add love.
When you are cutting up the apples, and cheese, and turkey for lunch,
don’t forget to add love.
When you are cooking dinner, and stirring the sauce, adding the spices,
don’t forget to add love.
When you are filling the washer with dirty clothes, and pouring in the detergent and softener,
don’t forget to add love.
It’s the smallest thing, and yet the biggest thing. It is the most subtle and the most powerful thing you can do. And it somehow changes the world–their world, and yours.
And maybe that’s why God reminded us to “love” in 1 Corinthians 13…because He knew we’d forget. And He said…it’s not about how “spiritual” you are, it’s not about how much you can “accomplish,” or “do,” it’s not even about how much of your “self” you can give away–to your home, to your kids, or to other people. It’s about doing it with love.
“Love is patient and kind…it is not irritable or resentful…Love bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things…”
“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three, but the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13
It’s a small thing. But it’s the biggest thing.
The smile, the gentle touch, the laugh at their joke.
The way you stroke their hair.
They won’t ask for it,
But they will taste it when it’s there.
And so will you.
So roll your sleeves up, mama. Stick your bare hands in the dough. Let the flour fly like confetti. Sweep it up with a smile. Because this is your life, and theirs.
And it all tastes so much better when you,
remember to add love.
What a great reminder! Tim is always the one who reminds me to take the moment and enjoy it, rather than moving right along to the next tast on my list. The list is never-ending, but the “love” moments need to be captured when they’re there. Our hubbies are wise men.