Lord Join Me In The Kitchen
I closed Him in another room.
What a mess, he came to soon.
I hope he likes the bed and flowers.
Laundry and dishes could take hours.
The baby cries, the kids need fed.
He's in the room, no words are said.
He is my dearest tender friend.
I'll talk to Him at the day's end.
Why do I close the door on Him?
He'll see the mess...and I'm not thin.
He can't come out until I'm perfect.
...Can't see my weakness; see me upset.
Then from the room, I hear a knock.
The sound's soft and gentle as a thought.
I open the door to his bright room.
I invite him into my living room.
"Watch the toys, mind the book pile."
He smiles and builds me up a while.
He comes to the kitchen as a friend.
I ask Him to be with me. He smiles again.
My Savior, why did you join me here?
Will the answer ring clear and true?
As long as we shut him in a room
Reserved for only church...we live in gloom.
His is a presence we can have everywhere...
A warm loaf of bread on days sad or fair.
He doesn't choose to close the door on us,
Nor force us to choose he be among us.
So why put him in a room at all?
Why close Him out or build a wall?
Can I daily choose a friend instead?
Come join me as I bake some bread.
Remind me, dearest Bread of Life,
to be a tender mother and wife.
Be near me in my daily, hourly, minute.
Take my heart. Change me within it.
Join me in the kitchen, I open the door.
Mind your feet...there's juice on the floor.
---chef Stephanie Petersen 2004