Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. James 4:10 (NIV)
For all of you who love a puzzle. Those who ponder if the toast falls butter side up or down, here’s a question. If you drop a 32 quart electric roasting pan from the hood of your car, will it fall lid side up or lid side down? Or will it fall on its side spilling the contents all over the ground? Answer later. Today, a work group met for lunch. I suggested sandwiches, but was overruled. They wanted something “decent”, a good hot meal. Someone suggested those Stouffer’s frozen lasagnas which in my opinion are neither decent nor good. I did not want to take responsibility for it, but reluctantly agreed to make a roaster pan full of chicken and yellow rice. Others volunteered to bring salad and dessert. The closer to the date we got, though; the angrier I became about having to cook. Why am I always the one to provide the food? Why doesn’t anyone else volunteer? Then, I decided that it was because I am the only one capable of doing it. No one else can cook as well as I can, particularly for a large group. My superior attitude didn’t make me any more pleasant, but it did carry me through preparing the chicken last night and cooking the yellow rice and black beans this morning. I was very proud of that huge pan of chicken and yellow rice I carried out to my car at 8:00. Boy, am I efficient! Aren’t they going to love this? Aren’t they going to be grateful that I am around? If not, I will remind them to be, I thought. I got out to the car with that heavy pan in my hands and realized I could not open up the back of my car to set it inside. So, I put it on the hood of my car, walked around to the back to open the tailgate and just as I did, I heard a thunk. That entire pan of chicken and yellow rice that I was so very proud of was upside down in the mud. (If you haven’t figured it out, lid side down is the correct answer). I said, “Oh, God, please, please,” and it wasn’t a curse, but a prayer as I raced over and found that half the food was on the ground, but the other half rested neatly in the lid. Fighting back two Dobermans who thought I was bringing them breakfast, and mindful of the five second rule, I scooped that hot chicken and yellow rice out of the lid and back into the pan with my bare hands. With my fingertips burning and my knees in the mud, I had to think, “So, who’s superior now?” I salvaged what I could, made another pot of rice and was much humbled when I presented it to my guests who were none the wiser that hours earlier, I was on my knees in the mud scraping up their lunch.