And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:5

I have this do-hickey thing as a staple in my various kitchens over the years. Much of its history is a mystery to me. What I do know is that it belonged to my Mama, and before that it was her Mama’s.

When I was younger it used to be a staple in my Grandmother’s kitchen. All I knew about it then was, it was near the kitchen sink, it sort of looked like a funnel but not really, so it couldn’t be useful for much, and it was ugly. As I have gotten older, my vision has progressed. While my contact prescription continues to be an ever present indicator of my increasing age, my perspective has changed dramatically.

This one time useless, unattractive, piece of kitchenware is not what I once thought it to be. In recent years I have begun a new kitchen adventure, one that is almost cathartic in nature. I have discovered that I like to can, pickle, and preserve foods. It is odd to me that after all these years, the little gadget would be resurrected to a new life. It lay dormant for many years, yet as I have begun to use it I am often comforted by it and left to wonder. I wonder as I pickle okra if I resemble my Mam-maw in any way and it occurred to me, that I must. I ventured into the kitchen at the end of a good but long day, that came rolling in with such swiftness I had hardly recovered from the day before. It had been marked with sadness for me, for reasons I do not even fully understand and as I went to bed that night I was heavy hearted. I awoke and began the day at breakneck speed, before 8am I was jolted into the reality of the world I live in, when Shelton had a complete meltdown over a siren alarming on a generator. Ears covered, leg bloodied, and crying, he stood frozen on an asphalt sea of nothingness. Thankful for an older sister who seems to comfort him better than I can somedays, I continued on with my tasks.

As the day continued to speed by with the same pace as it began, I found myself looking at 5:30 pm and dinner time disdainfully. As I ventured into the kitchen to prepare dinner, I chose the leftover dinner option and got to work on pickling those 7 quarts of okra. I suppose it was an attempt made in the hope of relinquishing some of that distress I was carrying.

Early that morning I was asked the question “What are you thankful for?” My honest answer at the time was “Air-conditioning.” As the day was drawing to a close I found myself thankful for this do-hickey, likely called a canning funnel or something like it. I am thankful for a busy day, dirty dishes, and tons of dirty laundry for they are the evidence of a full life. I am thankful for the sound of Ball jar lids sealing in the kitchen. I am thankful that as I prepare for bed at night, I can wake up again the next day knowing the absolute Truth that mercy comes new with every sunrise.