The Hammonses are now sushi chefs. OK, that’s probably unfair. Tracie, Kylie and I assembled and ate food resembling sushi our own home. (Taylor doesn’t do sushi. She made some amazing Japanese dumplings instead.) We didn’t cook the rice. Otherwise, though, it was all us. Back pats all around.
And the taste was, frankly, better than some I have paid good money for. The problem was in the cut. The rolls themselves ranged in appearance between “nice try” and “looks like you may have seen someone make sushi at some point in the past.” And to be fair, this wasn’t really my fault. We don’t have a proper knife, and the one we used wasn’t very sharp. I tried to hone it with the poor equipment we have. And it got the job done in the end. But it was not clean. Oh well.
It is times like this when I try to celebrate what I have instead of bemoaning what I do not have. I have family. I have good food to eat. I can live without a $500 sushi knife. Particularly in the current climate, we may tend to do the opposite. We are fine when God gives, but we cry foul when He takes away. But perhaps, continuing with the Job reference (Job 1:9-11 and Job 1:20-22 if you are following along), the problem is that we are not willing to serve God for nothing — or to be more precise, for less than we desire in the moment. The more I stare at that sentence and try to reword it, the more selfish it sounds.
Life is good at Casa Hammons. My family is present and healthy. We have board games to play, the internet to explore, a soft couch, and a fully functional air conditioner. More importantly, we have brethren with whom we can still interact (albeit through cyberspace, mostly), building one another up in the “most holy faith” (Jude 20).
I refuse to act like the world is ending because I have to wash my hands more often.