The Kitchen I Want Someday

I want a kitchen like my mother’s someday.

I don’t necessarily mean I want honey-golden countertops like hers, cranberry cabinets, the double fridge set-up, or even a similar dark wooden kitchen table. All of those things are wonderful, and I wouldn’t mind having them. But what I really want goes beyond decor.

I want a kitchen like my mother’s because…

We cook together there.

Even if all I’m pulling out is a package of pre-made cookie dough to eat (um, I mean bake), even if all I’m mixing together are boxed brownies, some of my favorite talks with my mother have happened in the kitchen.

The rice or the roast or the rest of the meal will go in the oven, on the stove, or on plates, and I’ll lean up against the counter to bare my soul. We may not cook together as often anymore, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is I know I can call her with a question about a recipe–and about life.

We do dishes together there.

Daddy jokes that I don’t know how to do dishes because he’s often the one taking on that chore after a meal. But I enjoy watching him do dishes as we watch the news. My dad serves our family by working hard all day and washing dishes in the evening. It doesn’t matter what the countertops or cabinets look like; I know I can find my dad in the kitchen after dinner, doing dishes.

We talk together there.

A few Saturdays ago, I sat at the table with my mother and grandmother for a simple sub sandwich lunch. We sat there for four hours and covered every topic from church politics to the future to cleaning. At one point I just sat back and pondered the depth of wisdom before me. Between them, my mother and grandmother have 120 years of experience being godly women.

It struck me all of a sudden that not a lot of people have that sort of mentorship at their kitchen table.

Someday I want that kind of kitchen table to pass on to my daughters and sons: the kind where they know they can call on me and talk to me about anything, a place where they know they can find their father after dinner (not necessarily doing dishes, but there).

I want the kind of kitchen where godly wisdom is as readily available as a Saturday afternoon lunch.

Photo by JenniMarie Photography