Welcome back to “Wingin’ it on the World Race”. In our last episode, we pulled off a successful Thanksgiving Dinner, complete with homemade green bean casserole—and yes, we mean entirely homemade (we found an amazing recipe for fried onions!)—mac ’n cheese, roast chicken, and pumpkin pie. This week, we come to you live from Oman, where we will attempt to make Andes Mint Chocolate Cookies and Peppermint Snowballs!
In all seriousness, cooking overseas is one of my new favorite hobbies. How exactly do you make a green bean casserole when you can’t go to the store and pick up a bag of fried onions and a can of cream of mushroom soup? What if the kitchen doesn’t have a working oven, or only has three pots and a few plates, but no utensils? What if you have a budget of $5/day?
You’d be surprised at the number of things that double as cooking implements when you’re in a bind. Just for fun, here’s the current list of things I’ve finagled into what I need in the kitchen:
Jimmie List:
– Plastic grocery bag doubles as a mixing bowl for apple pie filling
– Multi-tool doubles as kitchen knife
– Pots double as mixing bowls, frying pans, etc.
– Portable thermos doubles as pestle to grind up candy canes
– Travel mug doubles as storage container for icing; chopped fruit, chocolate, candy, etc. Can also be used as a bowl for oatmeal, soup, fried rice, etc.
– Peppermint essential oil doubles as peppermint extract
– Drinking glass (or that thermos, if you don’t have a clear, flat glass) doubles as rolling pin
Dylan crushing peppermint with a tea thermos.
The most expensive thing on any grocery list is probably the spices. We used to buy them fresh in each country, but some spices are not available in some countries (I defy you to find ground cinnamon or baking soda in Ethiopia) so, instead of buying them in each country, I now carry around an extra grocery bag with all the spices I’ve collected from various teams. In fact, I’ve even had people tell me that they hope I’m on their team so they can use my stash!
Subtly-Suggestive-Side-Note: It would be GREAT if I had two wonderful PARENTS who were COMING TO VISIT ME IN FEBRUARY who could bring me something… maybe a late Christmas present?… that would allow me to more easily carry around the spices… 😀
Cooking is not something I ever thought I would make a habit of on the Race, but as it turns out, I’ve had a kitchen to cook in since Month 2. Every team has done things differently, and it all depends on who controls the money. On some teams the treasurer keeps the money and all meals are eaten together. On others, racers get ownership of their budget for the week. On one of these teams, we created an optional buy-in ‘meal plan’, with set dinners for each night. On my current team, Aspenators, we used some of our meal and supplies budget to help supplement the cost of Christmas cookies! The plan is to hand these cookies out to neighbors and friends as a way to both bless them AND open doors to start talking about Christmas, and thereby, Jesus.
The finished product: Andes Mint Cookies!
Here are some things cooking overseas has taught me:
1. Everyone has different gifts, and they are all valuable.
Some people on my team are really good at fixing things. Some are really good at negotiating. Others are good at forming relationships and initiating conversation. Some are strategically-minded; some go off their feelings and instincts; some are experts on culture. My ability to cook has the potential not only to serve our team, but also to create environments and make connections.
Here in Oman, women stay firmly ensconced in their homes. When they do venture out, they wear an abaya (black dress that covers them head to toe) and burka (head scarf with only a slit for the eyes). In contrast to the brightly colored turbans and white robes of Omani men, the abaya is intended to make your eyes slide right past, and boy does it work!
Any interaction with a woman is almost always mediated by a man. As a taxi driver friend explained, in order to meet his wife, he had to first ask around about her family, then talk to her brother, then give over his information and be fully investigated (you know how parents joke about wanting social security numbers and bank statements? That’s a real thing here in Oman) before he ever talked to his wife in person. If her brother had not judged him worthy, she would never have known of his interest.
Since women don’t leave their homes often, in order to interact with them, you usually need to be invited to a home. That doesn’t often happen—in fact, it has yet to happen to us despite the number of connections we’ve made. One thing I can do to love on the women of Oman, however, is to deliver baked goods to their door. I may never see their faces, but when they eat the food I give, I hope they’ll feel seen and cared about.
2. Don’t underestimate the power of hospitality.
For me, cooking is always paired with creating an environment or orchestrating an opportunity. I want our team to come together, so I get the ingredients to make taco salad and invite them to help me prepare it. I want to provide an authentic Thanksgiving Dinner or Christmas party that will alleviate homesickness and preserve our culture, so I’ll put in some extra money for ingredients for Wassail or look up recipes for fried onions. I want to relate to our neighbors and facilitate opportunities to connect with them about Jesus, so I’ll bake Christmas cookies with the hopes of using those as a conversation starter.
Homemade Andes Mints:
Galaxy Chocolate + 9 few drops of Peppermint Essential Oil!
All good things! However, there’s a level of spiritual attack that comes every time I try to create an environment. During every preparation season, I hit a wall of exhaustion and find myself tired, overdrawn, overworked, and hopeless. What does this matter, anyway? Putting in the work for this is stressing people out—maybe it’s better if we don’t do it. Do we really need Christmas decorations? Chocolate chip cookies are just as good and easier to make. The thought of talking to people after I’ve spent three days straight in the kitchen makes me sick to my stomach, even though I’ve spent the last three days baking so that I could go talk to people.
Ever found yourself having similar feelings? I think it’s because the devil doesn’t like environments of love, joy, peace, and hope; he would rather us suffer in darkness and disillusionment. If people feel welcome and wanted, they feel loved, and sharing a meal in the right environment is just as much an act of worship as singing in a church service. For this reason, I think the devil specially targets those who work to create welcoming environments. He wants us isolated and alone, separate from the body of Christ that can support and comfort us in time of need.
So do we need the cookies? Yes. We need the yellow, not blue, lights on the Christmas tree. We need the holly and garland or the paper snowflakes cut out of leftover bingo sheets. We need a log on the fire, or the fireplace youtube channel on the TV. We need the pies and the baked ham or the collection of random spices on Christmas burgers.
Aspen & Victoria making snowflakes!
The point is: the environment we build matters. And whether it’s glass bauble ornaments on a pine tree or 25c paper snowflakes taped to the door, our effort and energy does not go unnoticed, or unappreciated.
3. It’s okay to give up the ideal I see in my head.
In all that I said above about excellence and doing things well, there inevitably comes a point where I need to sacrifice some of my ideals. Maybe something will take too much time and lots more money, or we can’t find the exact ingredient. Will godly environments still be created? Yes. Will people still appreciate food I make? Yes. Will conversations happen as a result? Of course!
It comes down to a lie I’ve battled my entire life: I’m not doing enough. There are always more people to give cookies to. Ways I could make the party better. People I should share the gospel with. Connections I should be forming instead of baking.
Have you ever seen a video of a watermelon exploding from rubber bands? You put rubber bands around the watermelon one at a time until the pressure is enough for it to pop. Every “should” in my life is like one of these rubber bands, and I am beginning to swell from the pressure. Even as I write this, I can feel the squeeze, as if something has got hold of my chest.
Here’s the truth: God is not asking me to be anything more than myself. He’s not disappointed if I don’t keep up the threads of every conversation. He’s not listening so that he can catch all my mistakes and correct me for next time. He’s not holding me responsible if an event doesn’t go as I planned, and if I don’t ever talk to the people who live next door, He won’t be disappointed.
I’m not saying I shouldn’t speak to anyone, or that ignoring others is right. What I am saying is that the pressure and expectation to go-go-go and do-do-do is not of God. The legalistic need to always be ‘doing’ caused the Pharisees to miss the very Messiah they had waited generations to meet. It’s the same need that keeps my Muslim friends entrenched in their religion and far from the hope Jesus offers.
I want to be someone who listens to God’s actual voice. And if God gave me the idea and the heart to bake cookies, then that’s what I’m going to do. Even if it means staying inside for three days and not talking to people. After all, you never know who you’ll meet in a kitchen. Maybe you’ll make friends with the eleven-year-old girl next door because you spot her through your kitchen window. Maybe you’ll toss her a piece of rolled cookie dough, and maybe she’ll bring you a drawing that you’ll put on your fridge. Maybe that will be the start of a relationship with a family that turns into an opportunity.
And maybe, just maybe, staying inside was a much more effective missions strategy than any ‘should’ could ever be.
