Moving, an Arsenal of Plans, and the Provision of God’s Love through Food

We were feeding some massive life changes recently. Moving our household of 23 years was among them.

There really is nothing more disruptive and unnerving than moving. In fact, psychologists indicate that it is among the top three most significant stressors in a person’s life, right up there with the death of a loved one and a major illness.

After 23 years of living in the 3300 sq ft traditional, center hall colonial we built when the kids were in grammar school, we were purging and packing to move to an 1800 sq ft townhouse in a new condo development four towns away. I became General George C. Patton invading Sicily with my arsenal of moving strategies and mapped-out plans. On the big day, we had a large moving van, five guys to pack and lift everything, and the keys to our new place. But what’s the first thing I looked for upon arriving and unpacking? Food.

Much like the Israelites as they moved out of Egypt, traveling through the desert for decades, food is a central security to our existence. For them, it was even one of the things they complained about most to Moses, so much so that God provided manna from heaven to appease their anxiety and assure them of his constant care. Exodus 16

So, after ensuring that the moving guys were unpacking everything well, and that husband Victor had it all in hand – with my lists of course- I jumped into my SUV and started scoping out the 10-mile radius of our new abode, looking for little pubs, delis, and burger bars as well as small grocers, butchers, and farmers markets.

Moving An Arsenal of Foodstuff

My first stop was a pizza joint that had to have been there since the early 1900s, from the looks of the brick walls. The menu told a tale of the family who, established by their great, great, great grandpa – I was right, 1900 at least- was still mixing and tossing dough the old-fashioned way by hand. The smells that came from the coal-fired oven set my stomach grumbling. I ordered some Italian subs to go and returned to the townhouse to feed the crew because feeding others is what I do – it brings me peace and helps me to feel the Holy Spirit move in my soul, spreading love through nourishment.

After dropping off the subs, I roamed back out to drive in the opposite direction, running into a bakery on my way. It was crowded – always a good sign- and you could feel the cloying sweetness of the dough and sugared pastries before entering through the door. Brightly lit windowed cases filled with every sort of baked good covered two-thirds of the room. I poked my way through a mass of people to get a better view – tray upon tray of Italian cookies, large eclairs bursting with cream and dripping with chocolate icing, pristinely glamorous fruit tarts, and baskets of perfectly rounded rolls. They packaged two boxes of warm goodies for me, and I continued my adventure. Next stop, the farmers market I spied on my way here, where I was blessed with freshly plucked strawberries the size of golf balls and crisp asparagus stems. I hadn’t even unpacked my cooking pans yet and was already planning dinner!

Final stop, the small-town grocer, no bigger than a mini-mart really, but filled to the brim with everything one needs to survive in this life and then some. My type of grocer- for one who loves food and cooking, I despise grocery shopping, especially at the big box stores. Too, too much for me! I had the butcher package up some chops and grabbed a small box of rice on my way out.

Back at the battlegrounds, the moving in of all the boxes and furnishings was just coming to a close. The unpacking of each box would take us well over a week, but for now, we had accomplished the move. I dumped my bags and boxes of groceries on the cool expansive quartz counters in the kitchen and proceeded to rummage through the box marked ‘kitchen goods’ for my caste iron skillet, a saucepan, and some utensils. I found my spice box, the olive oil, and one carving knife- good enough for now- and sliced and diced my way to our first homecooked meal in our new abode. Christening this space was such a grace-filled moment for us. Sharing a simple meal, prepared intentionally with love and purpose, anchored our future at that point in time. This place, this new beginning, would nourish us, God delivering on his promise to always – in all ways- bring us comfort and consistent care.

What did I make?

Skillet Browned Pork Chops with Sage Garlic Butter

One tablespoon of avocado or olive oil

Two thick-cut bone-in pork chops (8–10 ounces each)

1 oz fresh sage leaves, crushed

Four large garlic cloves, peeled, smashed

Two tablespoons of unsalted butter

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a cast iron pan (well-seasoned), spread the oil. Heat over a burner set at medium.

Season chops with salt and pepper. Place chops onto heated cast iron, oiled pan. Cook for 1 minute, turn cook for 1 minute. Continue cooking for 1 minute on each side, turning after each set, until the chop reaches an internal temperature of 135 degrees (about 8 minutes total cook time.)

Set chops aside.

In the same pan, melt unsalted butter over medium heat. When melted, add crushed sage leaves and smashed garlic. Turn off the heat, return chops to pan, and baste with butter mixture, spooning over chops liberally for about three minutes. Remove chops from the pan to a cutting board and rest until the internal temperature reaches 145 degrees.

Serve chops with sauteed asparagus with lemon butter and parsley rice for a delicious spring dinner.