A Love Lesson from a Zucchini

I purchased a massive zucchini for a dollar recently.

Let me ask you something. If I invited you into my home, and we sat down for tea and a chat, and then I excused myself to the kitchen and returned with a platter of goodies in my hands to share with you, which “goody” would make you feel more loved: fresh zucchini slices arranged in a pretty spiral, or sliced zucchini bread still warm from the oven and laden with half-melted chocolate chips?

On the surface, it seems obvious. “You baked this for me? How wonderful! Yum!”

But another person might find it cruel of me to put such a temptation in front of them.

“You know I’m diabetic. This contains as much sugar as zucchini—not even counting the sugar in the chocolate chips.”

“You know I can’t eat gluten.”

“I’m allergic to chocolate.”

“You know I’m trying to lose weight. How much oil is in this?”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

And so on.

In this light, I have not performed a loving deed at all. Have I?

I ask this because it’s what I pondered while I used only a third of that zucchini to create four loaves of zucchini bread. Adding sugar, flour, oil, chocolate chips and more turned something cheap and nutritious into something expensive and unhealthy. Why do we do this to ourselves and to each other?

If I truly loved you, wouldn’t I care enough about your health to want you eating something packed with nutrition but easy on calories? Then again, if I truly loved you, wouldn’t I want to offer the joy, comfort, and surge of endorphins that come with home-baked treats?

Who’s to say what is loving? What one person might call tough love, another sees as controlling and manipulative. Do my actions enable another to continue in unhealthy behaviors or do they demonstrate patient support? Am I practicing healthy boundaries or exclusion? What one sees as standing up for their own human rights, another sees as self-centered. Yet God calls us to love, first and foremost.

While it may not always be crystal clear what genuine love looks like, I know what it doesn’t look like. Love doesn’t look like fear or the spreading of fear. Name-calling. Gossip. Quarreling. Worry. Hatred. Resentment. Coercion. Arrogance. Distrust. Pretending to know stuff I don’t.

I think we’ve all seen a whole lot of the above lately, haven’t we? Sometimes the best prayer we can pray is, “God, make me teachable. Give me eyes to see. Ears to hear. Wisdom. Patience. Humility.”

Philippians 4 admonishes us to think about what is true, honest, just, pure, virtuous, lovely, and praiseworthy. Whatever’s troubling you today, God has already figured out. One day, in his perfect timing (how we wish we knew when!), you’ll look back and say, “see what my good and faithful God did there?” And just maybe, you’ll see where you grew in strength, compassion, goodness, and faithfulness because you chose love.

Now, what do I do with the rest of this zucchini?

A Lesson from Winter on Love, Sex, & Marriage

One benefit of these frigid Manitoba mornings is, you don’t waste time staring into your closet deciding what to wear. You simply wear it all.

As I bundle up for my morning walks to work, I’ve been contemplating the importance of doing things in the proper sequence. Long johns before pants, pants before ski pants. Then boots, parka, hood, scarf. Backpack. Gloves. Big leather mittens over the gloves. It all works together quite nicely to help me survive the brutality known as our weather.

But what if I decided to mix it up one morning because I’m bored with the routine or feeling a bit rebellious? Maybe I want to put my long johns on last, or my boots first. What if I put on my backpack and then tried putting my parka on over that? Or maybe I could put on my big leather mitts first. It could be done—maybe. But by the time I managed to zip my coat and tie my scarf while wearing those bulky mitts, I’d be frustrated to tears. I’d be sweating like a boxer. And my work day would be almost over.

Doing things in the right order applies to so much of life, doesn’t it? No matter how much we might like to skip some steps, especially if they’re hard, life works better in a certain order. We need the education before the good job, and the experience before the better job. We must practice before proficiency comes. We’re required to raise children before we can spoil grandchildren. Buckle up before driving off.

Oh sure, we can try doing things cart-before-the-horse. It might even work, with effort. Instead of washing dishes right after we’ve eaten off them, we could wash them just before we eat. Either way, we’re eating off a clean dish, so what’s the big deal? But seriously, who wants to be scraping off yesterday’s stuck-on spaghetti before you can enjoy tonight’s chicken?

You might succeed at driving to the gas station on a flat tire and then putting air in it. You could try washing a dirty floor before you sweep up the loose dirt. It’s possible to dress first and then take a shower. It’s also really, really dumb.

How about marriage, sex, and having babies? These days, people laugh at the idea of saving sex for marriage. Like it’s downright dumb.

But is it? Have you ever met anyone who waited and regretted it? I haven’t. Present company included. Most things work a whole lot better when done in the right order. Your Creator knows you and put some rules in place that He knows will, if followed, work best for you and the order of your life. Sure, you can change the order and “get along fine.” Lots of people appear to do exactly that.

And lots of people don’t. They carry around emotional scars from past relationships which deeply and negatively affect their present one—wounds they could have avoided by doing things in the order intended by the One who knows them best, loves them most, and understands their heart.

Valentine’s Day is a time to celebrate love and romance and sex. It’s a cold world, friend. Why make your life harder than necessary? Bundle up in the right order.