Burnt Soup

Yesterday morning I was putting together pastoral care notes for our new minister and completely focused on the task. Suddenly I remembered the pot of soup I was making for work lunches that I’d left boiling two hours before. Racing to the kitchen and pulling the lid off I realized it had scorched to the bottom with almost no liquid left, the chopped potatoes and leek barely recognizable. I tried to save as much as I could without scraping up the burnt stuff.

A wave of emotions came up - anger at myself for being careless, concern for my favourite pot, embarrassment for forgetting about it, frustration with wasting food, concern about needing to maybe start all over again if I couldn’t salvage enough of it. Over the last year and a half I developed a rhythm of when I did what, including pastoral calls and my soup making for the week. Now I’m out of rhythm and trying to find a new way of being. This change after such an intense time is involving some grief. Who will I be in my home church now? Who am I needed to be and how soon will I be sent somewhere else?

Yesterday afternoon I googled scorched pans and learned about using vinegar or vinegar and baking soda, boiling lemons and other tried and true ways of cleaning up messes like this. I tried a few, used up all my vinegar, and still the pot has black caked on the bottom. Pulling out another pot I tried to bring life back to the rescued soup and googled how to get rid of the burnt taste. I threw in salt, milk and sugar, tasting after each addition and adding more salt. We’ll see how appetizing it is after mellowing overnight.

I know that I’m still in high gear and that I need to slow down and focus on just one thing at a time. I’ve been granted a time of rest before leaping into something new. I don’t want to either burn out or “burn the soup” somewhere else because I haven’t tended to myself. I get that this is a luxury not many leaders have right now as they feel they have to keep running on this treadmill. There is a false sense that it’s getting easier with pandemic restrictions lifting and in person worship resuming, but in reality it’s just ramping up as we begin again in a new stage of this and hybrid formats. The work is not less.

My prayer is that in the midst of this continuing crazy time of all sorts of transitions and changes, that we can recognize when we’re burning the soup. That we can realize that we are only human and it will be okay if we do just one thing at a time and learn to ask for help and to delegate tasks and take a break. That we remember that we are not called to be perfect. Silly things will happen and we will recover from mistakes because of God’s goodness and grace. The soaked pot will eventually come clean again.

As I left for work this morning there was a small card that had been put under my door and on it was the word “Soup”. A neighbour in the building routinely makes soup and leaves it outside our doors. It’s always a surprise when the tub materializes, and somehow it seems to be when I’m at my busiest and least inspired to cook. As I put the tub in the fridge and headed out for the day, I smiled. God sees me, and sees us, and it’s going to be okay. We will be cared for and our needs met even when we burn the soup.