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Some years ago when we were living in Burundi, we were having visitors over for dinner. I fussed and fussed. I felt a bit insecure in my cooking abilities and challenged myself by putting a new item on the menu: a pork roast. As I look back on that roast experience, I ask myself what in the world was I thinking when I planned that meal? I can’t remember when beef wasn’t available at the butcher’s and we have never been much on eating pork. Why pork roast?

When it was time to make the gravy

Anyway, the roast did smell good as it cooked in my little gas oven. Our visitors arrived, the house smelled of roast, and I managed to get the table set and have everything just about ready. Until it was time to remove the roast from the oven and make the gravy.

Back then, our kitchen sat off the living room. You could see into the kitchen from the living room and the little dining area was set off to the side of the living area. It’s important to understand this setting to appreciate the story.

I reached ever so gingerly into the oven to remove the roast from the oven to make the gravy. And as I did, I slightly jostled the roasting pan. The unthinkable happened and the little round roast (it was nice and round like a soccer ball) rolled out of the pan. Before I could do anything, it bounced on the kitchen floor and rolled out into the living room right in front of everyone.

What was I thinking?

My thought seeing the roast bounce? Why pork roast? What was I thinking?

What a disaster! And there was no backup plan, no one there to rescue me. Tears stung the back of my eyes. At the time, I was in my perfectionist stage of life. I found it difficult to laugh at moments like these. And I ran after the roast, scooped it up with as much grace as a water buffalo can muster (i.e., no grace whatsoever), and rushed back into the kitchen.

I rinsed off the little pork roast/soccer ball and let it cook for a few more minutes before resuming gravy-making status. We ate dinner, and everyone seemed to sense my horror and spared me from any comments. The moral of this story? Close the kitchen door before attempting to remove a pork roast from the oven.

Pork roasts will roll

Each day comes with its own set of possible “unknowns” attached to it: flat tires, unexpected colds, surprise phone calls, and pork roast disasters. We’re tempted to wonder, why pork roast? I’ve learned since then, that life isn’t perfect, pork roasts will roll, and God is faithful to teach me throughout.

If, this week, you find yourself facing the unexpected, trust in Him who you follow, and whose will you are committed to. He has your back, He will hold you up and help you pick up your pork roast.

Note – I haven’t cooked a pork roast once since this disaster.

The moral of this story? Close the kitchen door before attempting to remove a pork roast (click on the link for a recipe much like the one I followed) from the oven.