Angels in the Kitchen

Mutter, mutter, mutter! I hear my heart grumbling as I slap toast into the toaster and wait for the kettle to boil. Slinging silverware to the table, I watch the bacon impatiently while I wait for the family to get downstairs. “Why do I have to wait on these people hand and foot? Why do they wait for me to scream up the stairs before they come down? Can’t they smell the bacon and hear the kettle?”

Just as I get ready to take the cups to the table, the family spills down the stairs with excitement. “Why are they so happy? Don’t they know how irritated I am being the only one down here getting things ready?”

“Good morning,” they all chime.

“Ump.” I groan, as I butter the last piece of toast.

Once they are all out the door, I go to my quiet place for some solace and encouragement. It’s been another hard morning and I am anxious to hear from the Lord. Hebrews 13 is my reading. “Let brotherly love continue. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” “Well,” I thought. “I haven’t entertained strangers this morning, and I’m sure they are not angels.” Then, I heard the Lord reminding me of 1 Peter 4:9, “Use hospitality one to another without grudging.” “Okay, okay!” So, I was a bit grumpy this morning. To be honest, I am grumpy at having to man the kitchen alone. I don’t like cooking. I don’t like the feeling of everyone expecting me to do it with no help. I’m sorry, but it is probably the task I despise most about housework. I laid aside my Bible and picked up a little book I had been reading. The faded green cover revealed it’s age, and the writings were short excerpts so maybe I could find some comfort there to lift my annoyance, but the Lord wasn’t going to let me off that lightly. My eyes fell on:

“In one of Murillo’s pictures in the Louvre he shows us the interior of a convent kitchen; but doing the work there are beautiful white-winged angels instead of mortals in old garments. One shining spirit serenely puts the kettle on the fire, and one is lifting a pail of water with heavenly grace. One is reaching plates from the kitchen dresser; and there is also a little cherub running about and getting in the way while trying to help. It all serves to remind us that heaven is about us in our kitchen, and that God may help us with the most menial and humdrum tasks.”

Adapted from Blessed Be Drudgery by Williams C. Grannett

“Well,” I continued to mutter, “there were no angels helping me today.” Then, my eyes caught the next short thought in the faded green book, “There can never be a really happy home if there is trouble in the kitchen.”

I was guilty. I knew my bad attitude could spill out to the rest of the house. I wanted a happy home. I felt I had a happy home, but my heart’s attitude and outward actions in the kitchen revealed something different. “Lord, forgive me.  Help me serve my family as unto you.  Forgive and change my heart and attitude. Let my influence be one of genuine hospitality from a heart of love and care. Help my family to overlook and forgive my selfishness and curt impatience. May grace and angelic presence abide in my heart, hearth, and home for your glory.” Nearby, staring back at me in blank resolve was a tiny, white, angel ornament recently made for me by an old friend. Was I going to allow angels into my kitchen? I took the tiny angel and placed her near the sink as a reminder of my Lord’s instruction. Maybe tomorrow morning she will remind me I am not alone in my kitchen, and service to my family, done as unto the Lord, does not go unnoticed.

Excerpt from: Good in Everything by H.L. Gee, p 56 

Angels' Kitchen, Bartolome Esteban Murillo (1646)