Mishaps and miracles

I had thawed the chicken to make the Moroccan chicken stew. The one that surprises me with all the textures even when I go into it expecting them.

I started the stew, and only messed up the instructions a teensy bit.

I started the ginger-turmeric rice, and only slightly burned the garlic and ginger at the beginning (distracted cleaning while cooking – it can happen).

I had the rice at the simmer point , and the stew stewing, when I decided to cook the sweet potatoes with Moroccan ras el hanout seasoning.

Usually I would peel and microwave sweet potatoes, then just bake them long enough to crisp them, the microwave having done the cooking.

Usually I would toss them in oil and seasoning and then cook them on a baking sheet.

But the dishwasher was already full and ready to run. If I just did the tossing in the metal-handled oven-safe frying pan, I could toss and cook all in the same pan. Which needs hand washing anyway.

Good plan!

The rice was fine, initial burning notwithstanding. The stew was good, initial misstep notwithstanding. The sweet potatoes came out of the oven and all of these were packaged up into single-serving units in the fridge.

And then I started cleaning up. Mostly items that need hand washing. The Dutch oven. Utensils. The frying pan.

Ah yes, the frying pan. The one I had just moments before pulled from the hot oven.

And forgotten to wrap the handle in a dishtowel to remind me that the handle was hot.

Picked up. Put down.

And hand immediately run under cold water because ohsweetlord had I ever burned myself.

Cold water wash for a while.

Then a cool water bath for my hand because every time my hand got to room temperature it started to hurt again. Especially my poor pinky which took both the heat and the weight of the pan when I had mindlessly grabbed it.

Then cool compresses and cool air.

Also there was Advil and wine, just for the sake of accuracy.

I expected blisters. I expected to be unable to use my left hand for some days because of them.

But by pure grace and miracles… a day later, my hand is fine. Ever so slightly sensitive to temperature, but… fine.

I didn’t “deserve” one iota of that mercy – but He doesn’t require my goodness in order to show His.

(And that was just my hand. How much greater the grace that saves my spirit for eternity?)

I’m so thankful.

May He guard you from mishaps. But when the mishaps come, as they do, may He show you His amazing grace.