A simple kitchen moment becomes a powerful reminder that we all need the fresh oil of God’s Spirit so our lives stay full of grace, joy, and encouragement.
Starting Fresh
I teach baking classes at a small Christian school. Yesterday, we made homemade sopapillas. They're made from scratch, rolled out, cut in triangles, and fried in neutral oil in a skillet.
After we wrapped up class #1 my daughter went into the classroom to keep an eye on our incoming students for class #2. In the meantime, I decided change out the oil in the pan. The first batch was already doing what "old oil" does - getting smelly and a bit rancid.
My daughter popped her head in the door a couple minutes later to let me know the kids were all set and I said, "I'm just changing out the oil. We need fresh oil."
Fresh Oil, Fresh Oil!
And immediately, of course, I started singing one of my favorite worship songs, "Fresh oil, fresh oil, oil of your presence! Pour out your presence right now!" (Fresh Fire, The Belonging Co)
I've been thinking about that fresh oil all morning long. You can cook with old oil, but it spoils the flavor and the texture of what you're cooking. You'll still have a finished product, but who would want it?
Let's Age with Grace, Folks!
This whole thought process reminded me of a recent conversation with some friends in my age group. (I hang out with old people now.) We were talking about how some folks seem to sour with age. They get critical. They aren't as fun/sweet as they used to be. They're always looking for the negative, not the positive.
There are a variety of reasons, we decided--everything from physical pain to emotional pain, to loneliness and grief. But that sour milk has a tendency to make everything taste and smell kind of, well, icky.
Please, Lord. . .Don't Let me Sour!
I've been praying a lot lately, that I won't sour with age. (I've had some amazing mentors, friends like Louise Looney and Eleanor Clark, who have faced their golden years with SO much positivity and joy!)
I want the fresh oil of God's Spirit to wash over me--every single day, no matter my age--so that I'm a pleasant aroma, someone who's known as an uplifter. An encourager. A hope-filled beacon.
Grace. . .Grace!
I don't always get it right. I have super low days, too. But, Lord. . .please. Don't let me become sour milk. Don't let me be the one who spoils the whole thing.
And to my closest friends (you know who you are) I give you full permission if I DO start to sour, to interrupt my life with hard questions to get to the why behind the what. You can help me toss that old milk and replace it with fresh.
"...and provide for those who grieve in Zion — to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”
– Isaiah 61:3