Sure sometimes you have to soak them. Scrub them. Rinse. Load. Stack. Unload. Sometimes they break into a thousand pieces. Or miraculously get lost and result in a no longer matching set. They can represent hours lost cleaning instead of socializing with family. They can result in dry cracked hands.
But my dishes are more than that. Your dishes are more than that.
They are something to be thankful for.
Every dish is a meal shared with a friend.
Each coffee cup a heartfelt conversation with my husband.
Every platter and roasting pan celebrates our faith with our family.
Each fancy beer glass an adventure in testing the limits of our taste buds.
Every wine glass a late night of laughter that accompanies the gift of friendship.
My dishes mean I have options. To cook. To try. To share.
My pots and pans and dishes and glasses mean I have memories. Of my childhood home.
Of college. Of my wedding. Of Aunt Rita.
You only have dishes if you have a place to put them. That place is called home.
So today God I am so thankful for each and every dish.
Help me to remember each time that I rinse, scrub, wash or stack them, each time I need to reach for hand lotion after, and each time the dishwasher buzzes for me to unload it… Lord help me to remember to be thankful for the memories they represent, the gift of new moments they allow me to create, and the ability to so easily put food on them when so many others struggle each day.
Thank you Jesus for the gift of dishes.