Petals of Friendship

My Betty Crocker cookbook is a wreck. It was given to me as a bridal shower gift in 1979, and I have treasured it ever since. Over forty years later, it remains a prized possession. It has been my cooking guidebook, truly important when you’ve grown up feasting on a mainly southern Italian diet, (no complaints here) which included a lot of pasta and meatballs. Yes, our meals had variety, but gravy was simmering at my house just about every other day. The traditional, and now collectable Betty Crocker cookbook became my best friend in the kitchen. Today, it has all the signs of being used and maybe a little abused. The pages are weathered, written on, and stained. The covers are loose, no longer held in place by the familiar spiral binding. The only thing keeping it together is an oversized, stretchy band. I’ve collected other cookbooks over the years, but this one has been my go-to manual. In it, I discovered new recipes, tried making things I had never heard of, and was thrilled

The agave plant is beautiful. It grows in hot, dry climates mostly in the southwest.  Close to home, we might be acquainted with it as a sweetener.  The agave has many other beneficial uses, but it is also poisonous and can lead to problems if it punctures the skin.  Aren't we the same?  We possess both the bitter and the sweet. The poison that can pierce a heart and the ability to speak sweetly and convey love. Beautiful and ugly, good and bad. Each quality resides in all of of us.    What do we do when we've been hurt by someone we love?  Strike back with our own woundedness? Run? Retreat? Shut down? That's what I tend to do. I nurse my wound and feel sorry and angry at the same time. It's not a healthy place to be. In my head, I believe I have to figure it out on my own. And in that place, I usually remain stuck. Only until my heart starts to listen to the nudges of the Holy Spirit, do I stand a chance to make progress.  And so I have to run.  Not away from my