Last Thursday evening I was going
through my daily ritual of trying to find something to make for supper. (Sure I could plan ahead, but what fun would that
be?)
An expedition into the fridge and
cupboards netted me some leftover cooked ground beef, a bag of not-too-old potatoes,
a can of green beans I had actually bought it for the dog, who is supposed to be
on a green bean diet (Dr. Jay swears it'll work), and a container of cheese spread
of the sort that is supposed to be smeared on crackers. I had bought it a few weeks back as a manager's
special. Its best-by date had come and gone,
but surely I could heat it on the stove, add the meat and a splash of milk, and
turn it into an interesting sauce to spoon over mashed potatoes.
Yyyeah, that wasn't such a great
idea. The cheese had a nice sharp tang to
it, but it tasted like it was full of sand.
Heating it up only seemed to make it worse. My cheesy sauce semi-plan was a no-go.
My eldest wandered into the kitchen. Accustomed to my desperation dinners, he knew
I would be open to suggestions. "Got
salsa? Why not use those tortillas and make
tacos?" He was right. Tacos were the prefect simple solution.
I looked doubtfully at the big bowl
of steaming potatoes that was now on the counter, noting aloud that mashed potatoes
and tacos don't mix. In true teenage-boy style, he declared, "Hey, I know. We could put the potatoes ON the tacos!"
And thus the potaco was born. Yes, it was assembled from a handful of random
odds and ends, none of them really fit for a meal. And yes, it wasn't that good. (I mean, come on. Mashed potatoes in a taco. You weren't expecting me to say it was delicious,
were you?) But still, there was something
oddly endearing about our new creation.
I think part of it is the name. Potaco.
It's just fun to say.
And I think we also liked the potaco
because it started out as a sandy-cheese failure, but somehow, mishmosh that it
was, it had become a new, interesting thing, created by us. Something unique and quirky that was more than
the sum of its parts.
-----
Life is full of potaco days. Days when nothing goes according to plan. When you forgot that you were supposed to make
a plan in the first place. Days when the
best you can do is try to grab hold of one or two good things and call it adequate.
I often find myself wishing I were
having a better day. Or living in a better
way, more organized perhaps, or more focused, or more effective, so that I could
feel good about what I have to show for each 24-hour chunk of life.
But most days aren't like that. Lots
of days are full of odds and ends and unexpected bits, false starts and failures,
restarts and just doing the best you can.
That night, as I dished up our odd
dinner (complete with dog beans), my eldest pulled out his phone with a laugh. "I might just need to tell my friends that
we're having potacos," he told me. "I
think we've really come up with something here."
Every once in a while, amid my near-constant
stream of self-evaluation and criticism and feeling I ought to be doing something
better, I am struck by the realization that my crazy, hashed-together days are...well,
they're potacos. They are new, interesting,
and even exciting, even though they're not at all what I expected.
-----
Bits and pieces. Put together into a whole that, for some inexplicable
reason, has worth.
It's not only our days that are potacos,
my friends.
Each of us are full of bits and pieces. Good pieces.
Not so good pieces. Leftover chunks
of time, cold emotions, parts that look better than they really are. Surprising bits, strengths we didn't know we had. A mishmash.
I don't always feel like my parts
add up to much. My internal evaluations convince
me I'm inadequate, and the sting of being rejected leaves me wishing I were made
of some other parts.
But in Jesus, my Heavenly Father
makes all things new. He takes me the way
I am and makes my pieces into something interesting and unique. He made me to be a me. He made you to be a you. By giving us His Son He has given us a new name,
a new identity, a worth beyond explanation.
Just as we are.
Take a look in the mirror. God has really come up with something. Something unique. Quirky.
So much more than the sum of its bits and pieces parts.
Just for today, see yourself as He
sees you. As his totally awesome potaco.
First published in The Alpena News, June 4, 2016
