Order up a sea bass

My sister just returned from a trip to Greece. (And no, I’m not jealous AT ALL.) As she was filling us in on the details of her adventures in the land of clear blue water and snow-white walls, she told a story about a special dinner they had at a more expensive venue. [Let me give a little background information here: my mom, my sister, and myself do not eat seafood.] However, Sherry was determined to eat at least one meal consisting of seafood while she was in Greece, famous for fresh fish. It was during this expensive dinner when Sherry decided it was the time to dive in and order fish. Using her best reasoning, she went for the day’s special of broiled sea bass because of course, the special of the day should be the freshest, least fishy tasting thing on the menu.

Upon the meal arriving at their table, Sherry found herself looking eye to eye with a sea bass. They did not bother to fillet it, take off the skin, or even cut off the head and tail. It was simply a fully intact sea bass with a few lemons covering the belly. As Sherry is telling me this story, I immediately assume she did not eat the fish. No lady in the Hammack household eats fish if at all possible, much less if it still has an eyeball. Sherry decided she was going to eat fish while she was in Greece, had ordered fish at this special restaurant, and was not about to fall short of her determination.

She peeled back the skin, covered the eye with a lemon, and ate the fish. Her description of the fishy entrée? “It was SO GOOD!”

I don’t think I could have done what Sherry did. First of all, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to order fish at any point during a trip to Greece, I wouldn’t have ordered it at the most expensive restaurant (because I know I would throw it all away), and if a waiter brought a full-on fish to my table I would have it removed immediately. Sherry would never have tasted the delicious sea bass if she wasn’t brave enough to try.

I love to ask God for a challenge; I want Him to use me for His will. I order up a sea bass, if you will. Deciding I will order a fishy entrée is difficult to start with, actually ordering it is even harder, and eating the disturbing and unappetizing fish that arrives on my table is nearly impossible.

Deciding to let God use me is difficult, prayerfully asking Him to use me is even harder, and taking on the challenge when He brings it to my doorstep is a pivotal moment. I have the choice to take it on, or pass it by.

Even though the challenge may appear more than your can handle, passing it by may leave you missing out on something “SO GOOD.”

“Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that you may do the will of God and receive what is promised” (Hebrews 10:35-36).

Sherry went to Greece with confidence that they would indeed have good fish, believed it enough to order the sea bass, and endured to eat it. And she received what was promised: the fish was good and fresh.

I have to approach life like Sherry approached sea bass.

“But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved” (Hebrews 10:39). No turning back.

4544 means baby bok choy

I look at things differently than the average person. Or I guess I should say I look at produce items differently than the average person. I don’t see spaghetti squash, I see 4776. I don’t see asparagus, I see 4080. I don’t see nectarines, I see 4378. I don’t see white onions, I see 4663. My life has been turned into a game of numbers. I cannot go a meal without running the numbers through my head (tonight I had 4076, 3151, 3121 and 4163… to you, that means I ate a salad). I cannot watch tv without saying all the numbers as they illuminate my screen. Basically, when I see produce, I think about the codes. Or if I happen to see a number that signifies a code (house numbers, phone numbers, etc), I think about the vegetable it means in my produce-laden world. It is something I cannot help, it just happens.

The reason I think in produce codes is because it is how I spend my days. 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. If I am not putting produce out onto the shelves all day, I am ringing it through the check stand. After spending a good 40 hours each week with these codes, they become a part of me. For the three months of the year I spend in the grocery store, the codes and I are one. Upon arriving back at school and leaving my glamorous grocery life behind, the codes slowly begin to fade away. I probably won’t remember that 4544 means baby bok choy come next February. It is doubtful that I will know 4629 means leeks in the panic of finals week.

The bottom line: when I am no longer spending everyday with these codes and have distractions on every side, I quickly forget.

When I am faithful about spending time with God and taking time to get to know Him, He becomes part of who I am (just like the codes are a part of who I am for the months of May, June, and July). But just like the codes that begin to vanish the moment I leave the grocery store, the relationship I have with Christ can just as easily fall away if I neglect spending time with Him. I cannot remember produce codes if I only work an hour each week. Likewise, I cannot build a relationship with Christ if I meet with him irregularly.

The great thing is, when I return to my grocery glory after spending 9 months away, the codes find their way back to the forefront of my mind within the first few days. After being afraid I would never recall the hundreds of PLU codes I spent last summer memorizing, I was shocked to find I remembered 4520 meant long stemmed artichoke on my first day back. When we fall away from Christ, we can rest assured that He will take us back. We don’t have to “start over” because He has been there with us all along. The codes never left my memory; Christ never leaves our hearts. He is always there waiting for us to pursue the relationship. Spend time with Him and he will be part of you.

Where's the pork?!

I spent this past Sunday making a ridiculous number of pulled pork sandwiches, each of which was accompanied by a side of coleslaw and Kansas City smoked beans. Just another day of being the “everywoman” at the grocery store. Our store decided to capitalize on a barbeque contest being held in our parking lot by selling pulled pork to the hungry barbeque goers.

Let’s just say things were chaotic at times. There were times we ran out of pork, lemonade, and beans. There were times when we felt we could have used an extra set of hands. There were times when felt like we didn’t have the answers we needed (like the answer to, “where’s the pork?!”).

After the last pulled pork sandwich had been served (which actually required us re-obtaining items from the truck we had already packed up), it was time for clean up. We broke down all the tables and chairs, packed up the U-Haul, made several trips back and forth from the store to the barbeque location, and picked up a seemingly endless amount of trash. There were times when it seemed like the tables were too heavy. There were times when the chairs seemed too numerous. There were times when the trash seemed too gross. There were times when the bins of post-BBQ ash seemed too heavy.

But what I remember most is the laughter. I think my favorite moment of the afternoon was when we were completely out of pork, beans, lemonade, “mojo” sauce, quarters, dimes and pennies. Aside from the fact that customers weren’t exactly peachy about our lack of food items, this was a bonding moment for me and my fellow pulled pork professionals. In these ten minutes of “down time,” we began to laugh. What else was there to do? We couldn’t change the circumstances, we couldn’t magically make pork appear in our chaffing dish, and we couldn’t make the customers refrain from groaning as they stood hungry in line.

We laughed and felt comfort in knowing we were not in this alone. Had I been standing there in front of this massive line by myself, there probably would not have been laughter. More likely, there would have been tears.

The same is true for life, we will run into chaos. Things are not always smooth sailing in the journey of life. I think we can all agree to this from experience. But we should never forget that we are given brothers and sisters in Christ to walk through life with. In fact, we are even called to share in each other’s burdens, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2).

We all find commonality in the things of life. We often are not equipped to fix each other’s problems, but we are equipped to walk through them together and laugh along the way. Whether it’s a difficult academic year, the loss of a family member, sickness, or even a crazy day at the barbeque, it’s always better together.

Pursuing fake fish on the bottom of the kiddy pool

Zoe has a new favorite activity: digging the water out of her bowl... she no longer gets water inside or is monitored when she does. Thinking she might be trying to communicate that she would like to learn how to swim, we purchased a kiddy pool for her. It’s the typical kiddy pool you’re imaging in your head: blue, plastic, about 4 feet in diameter, 18 inches high, and has colorful fish adorning the sides and bottom.

After a few doubtful walks around the pool, Zoe climbed in to test the waters. Does she love it? I’m not sure. She’s only concerned with one thing while “swimming” in her pool: getting those colorful fish. She goes round and round, digging, pawing, biting, and splashing. All in hopes of capturing those elusive sea creatures.

To Zoe, these fish are not merely colored plastic on the bottom of a kiddy pool, they are real. She does not understand the fish are not alive or that they are not toys for her to play with. She will never be able to grab them in her mouth but they remain the center of her attention.

Sometimes I am like Zoe in the kiddy pool, I chase after what I cannot have. I dig and scratch and bite and claw until I am choking on water. Something about my humanness fails to realize I cannot have these things. We all have fake fish in our lives. They are the dreams and goals and hopes we have that are not in God’s plan. They are the things of this world that seem so good, like fish on the bottom of the kiddy pool, but lack actual substance.

God has given us a “kiddy pool” (if you will) and he hopes that we will enjoy it, swim in it, take in the coolness of the water. But we end up pursuing fish painted on the bottom and completely miss out on His plans. We planned for Zoe to relax and enjoy the water. Instead she ends up hot, bothered, and choking on water.

“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” (Jeremiah 29:11).

Plans that are better than circling the kiddy pool in pursuit of fake fish.

Don't fear the wet rack.

Part of my job as the produce lady includes replenishing the wet rack. You know: lettuce, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower, and the like. To do this, I often wheel out the entire u-boat filled with wet rack items. This also means I am often in people’s way as they are trying to navigate the produce department. To compensate for the obstruction I am causing, I try to be aware of the people around me and let them know I can move if they need me to.

As I was replenishing the wet rack today, I noticed a young boy (I would guess to be 8 years old). The boy began at one end of the wet rack, looked high over his head to read the signs, studied the vegetables, and walked down to the other end of the rack while continuing his search. Then he walked over to the organics section. Then he walked back to the other side of the wet rack again. I think he went back and forth a total of three times, taking a good 5 or 6 minutes. I knew what was going on here. He had that “I’m on a mission” look on his face. I knew mom had sent him on a mission to find a particular produce item and he was determined to accomplish the mission.

Having felt this same panic before (my mother was always big on sending us out on important missions), I walked over to him and asked, “Can I help you find something?”

He was obviously happy someone came to help, “Yes!”

“So, what are you looking for?”

Although he was happy for the help, he was unable to identify what he was looking for. “Umm, well… it starts with… an ‘R’… then an ‘O’… then an ‘M’…”

“Oh! I bet you’re looking for romaine, right?”

I could see by the look of relief in his eyes that I had guessed right.

“That’s it! Where can I find it?”

I walked him over to the romaine (which he had passed a good three times already), handed him a head, and sent him on his way. Mission accomplished.

The boy was overwhelmed. Mom had sent him on a mission to find a kind of lettuce he couldn’t pronounce, he could only remember three of the letters, the wet rack was massive, the tags identifying the vegetables were too high, and he was afraid to ask for help.

We’re on a mission too. “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19).

This task is overwhelming. We have been sent on the most important mission, we don’t always remember everything He has taught us, the world is massive, it has been marinated in sin, and we often feel we are going it alone.

Like the boy, we’re afraid to ask for help. Or maybe we just forget to ask for help. We must not overlook the verse following Matthew 28:19, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

This is not a mission we are called to take on alone. Not only do we have our brothers and sisters in Christ with us, but we also have the very one who sent us on the mission with us at all times.

Like the boy, once the mission is accomplished we will be rewarded. I am sure he had a mother at the end of his mission saying, “Well done!” At the end of our mission, our Father will say to us, “Well done, my good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:21). Don’t fear the wet rack.