"This sounds easy," Kerrie Sue encouraged her cooking challenged self, while reading cookbook. "I knew I bought that spaghetti squash yesterday for some reason." From toes to nose she vibrated newlywed enthusiasm.
As in the baking plan, Kerrie Sue set forth with gourd on baking pan, but to open the oven door she let go with one hand. The hard as a rock spaghetti squash promptly rolled off and, "Ouch, ouch, owwee," squashed her big toe.
After the dance of the newly lame and in pain, Kerrie braced herself against counter top and scanned the kitchen floor for gourd escapee. She spied it lurking under table in kitchen nook. "You filthy stinking psycho gourd! I'm going to kick..." she caught herself, "I will not cuss... I will not cuss," Kerrie swore, as she hobbled on left heel with throbbing toe pointing the way. At table she squatted, rolled psycho squash toward her, gathered it in arms, stood... smashed head under table, "No cussing, no cussing!" All the way back to the oven that phrase took on new meaning.
"This time I put the baking pan in the oven first." Kerrie then hoisted hefty gourd into oven. "An hour at 375 degrees might just adjust the attitude of Mr. Psycho Gourd." She closed oven door, growled, "Burn Baby Burn!"
Approximately 37.5 minutes later on the other side of kitchen island, Kerrie reclined in family room chair, left foot propped up on ottoman, big toe draped in frozen black eyed pea package. The toe had almost calmed down, when she said to self, "For some reason I feel like I'm forgetting something. Didn't the recipe say to be sure to cut the gourd in half or poke holes in it before baking... oh no."
Kaaaaa-blooey!! Psycho gourd explosion blew open oven door, scattering debris and knocking bottle of wine from kitchen island to hard tile floor. It was a special bottle of wine that Kerrie had bought to celebrate their first home cooked meal together. And so, there poor Kerrie Sue sat, a tad too quietly, as left eyelid drooped to half mast and face birthed tic of spasm.
Two hours twenty-three minutes later of cleaning-up gourd parts and wine and a quick trip to Local Yokels Market to purchase yet another potential bomb, one determined new wife tried it again. This time she did not forget, "Poke holes," Kerrie said through clinched teeth. Her face spasmed as she raised the blade, its steel flashing reflection in the half mast eye. "Die... Die... You stupid..." Kerrie plunged the knife at a way too hard rind of gourd. The blade deflected. Her grip slipped. Her hand slid down upon sharp blade edge... "Ouch, ouch, owwweeeeee!"
"No cussing, no cussing, no..." she chanted, but her blood shot eyes and facial tic concealed not Kerrie Sue wrath. Her towel wrapped hand now gripped ice pick, and into wayward gourd multiple holes were stabbed; each puncture punctuated with tennis serve grunt. All without cussing of course.
Thus the unholy, now holey gourd was subdued and shoved in oven. And while it baked, one persistent Kerrie Sue prepared just a few other ingredients for her first ever husband, a pleasing artichoke spinach spaghetti squash boat: 3 minced garlic cloves, 3 ounces cream cheese, a load of grated parmesan, another load of mozzarella, 3 cups chopped baby spinach, one overly full cup of canned artichoke hearts, fresh parsley, sea salt, pepper and of course a bit of extra virgin newlywed olive oil.
One and a half hours later, viola: there the beautiful Kerrie sat at table, her makeup flawless, her dark hair down low, her throbbing big toe soaking in warm magnesium salt water, her injured hand bandaged and elevated. But she sat alone, as the sun set through kitchen nook window, the food on table growing cold, matching her thoughts of worry. "Why did David not answer my calls? Is he hurt? Is he with an old girlfriend? Is he with a new woman? How did this day spiral into such an abyss? And that's it. I am complaining. I didn't cuss, but I am worrying; I didn't cuss, but I did fuss; when what I should have done from the beginning is pray to and praise Our Heavenly Father in Jesus name." And Kerrie Sue bowed her head... And Kerrie prayed... And a great calm enveloped her...
No more than twenty minutes passed. David found his precious wife with eyes closed, head still bowed. He kissed her temple through coconut soft and scented hair. He took her bandaged hand in his, whispered, "Looks like you might just have had a tad worse day than mine."
Kerrie reached up with her one good hand, cupped his ear and nape of neck, confided, "The worst was not hearing your voice all day. Did something happen to your phone?"
"Well, first let me thank you again for blessing me yesterday with a new smart phone. Secondly, yes, I should have opted for that armored case, we discussed."
"What happened?" Kerrie saw the disappointment etched in David's face.
"Going," David slid into chair next Kerrie, "going to work, I stopped at the market to hunt and gather a few snacks. I even opted for the health conscious organic fruit section. But on the way thru the veggie aisle I spied a bright shiny George Washington on the floor. I braced my self on a display of some kinda gourds."
"Oh no," Kerrie knew that was not good.
"Oh yes," David continued, "I bent over to pick up the quarter, the phone fell out of my shirt pocket on to concrete floor, and the gourd display dislodged and rained avalanche down upon it."
"No doubt the gourds had to be spaghetti squash." Kerrie giggled.
"How did you know?" David smiled at her reaction.
"Better yet," Kerrie interrupted his thoughts, "you tell me why my brand new husband is late for our very first home cooked meal?" Kerrie giggled again, added, "Did the gourds get you?"
"Again, how did you know?" David truly wondered, as he answered her, "Well, after work, I wanted to be here early so I took the FM 616 short cut. Naturally, a turtle could have outrun the 18 wheeler in front of me. And joy of joys, or I should say gourd of gourds, the trailer came loose from semi, smacked down hard on the pavement, ruptured and spewed forth gourd Armageddon." David paused, a bit confused by the amused look and chuckles of Kerrie Sue.
"Continue," Kerrie smirked.
Gourds everywhere! All over and up and down the road! Zillions of them! And no way around!" David almost lost his breath.
"I might just know what happened next." Kerrie smiled.
"It was like a great wind parted the gourds," David continued, "rolled them to the road sides, filled the ditches... and yet, there was such, such a..."
"Great calm..." and Kerrie smiled...
Pray more... fuss less...
1st Thessalonians 5:16-17 and James 4:8
For an infinitely more awesome and true story of Biblical proportions, please see Jesus in action: Matthew 8:23-27.
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