“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.”
Proverbs 16:9 (NLT)
Tuesday night was such a departure from my expectations–not because what actually happened was so far outside of the norm that I walked away all that surprised by the turn of events. In fact, that night turned out to be what most folks might call typical. But for me, the way the after school hours unfolded revealed again that I can (and should) make plans for my day, but ultimately, I have very little control over what actually happens.
Just after I panicked about what to do about dinner, I rushed out the door to pick up Addie from school so I could whisk her over to ballet class on time. Once she was settled in the car, munching on her granola bar and humming along to the music, I reminded her we were on our way to ballet. Her response surprised me: “Ugh. I forgot it was ballet today. I don’t want to go.” She insisted she just didn’t like ballet, and I was surprised to hear it. This is the girl who used to wear tutus all day long and beg me to click on a YouTube video of real ballerinas dancing in The Nutcracker so she could mimic their every move. She practically begged us to let her take ballet lessons, and up until now she seemed to really enjoy them. This complaint seemed a little out of left field.
Except for it wasn’t, really. She didn’t want to go to ballet last week either, but when she asked not to go on that particular day I just figured she didn’t want to leave her post at the kitchen table. She hadn’t had school that day and so she set out her markers and tracing paper on the table and colored to her heart’s content. Ballet, I assumed, was an unwelcome interruption in her creative flow for the day. I was mistaken. There was more to it than that.
We dialed your number and talked together with her about all this in the car, sort of on the way to ballet and sort of on the way home. She admitted she was just so tired at the end of her school day that dancing was the last thing she felt like doing, and she just didn’t love ballet as much as we thought she loved it. We decided it wasn’t worth forcing her to do something she didn’t really want to do in the first place, and if being at home sounded like the best thing in the whole world to her? Well, that was alright by me.
So it turns out I did have time to make zoodles with Quattro Rosso sauce for dinner that night after all. But I still wasn’t sure about whether you were bringing home take out or not (you didn’t), or whether our friends would be coming over to join us for that night’s basketball game (they didn’t), so while I waited for answers I just did what felt right: I started in on that sauce with just the one pound of thawed ground turkey that was ready and waiting. I figured if friends came over, we’d just send you out on a taco run; and if they didn’t come over, well, we would just eat those zoodles. I chopped garlic and browned the meat and whirled the roasted peppers into velvety submission. The sauce was simmering when you got home from work early and said this to me: “You have two choices: we go on a walk right now, or we eat dinner right now and go for a walk after. Either way, we’re going.”
The zucchini hadn’t been spiralized yet and the Goobies’ brown rice noodles hadn’t been cooked yet, so clearly eating right then wasn’t going to happen. But the idea of leaving for a long sunset walk and feeding the kids a late dinner made me panic. I like spontaneity in theory, but the practice of it is tough for me. But I clicked off the stove and set the pot of water for noodles aside anyway, and we loaded up the wagon with snacks, blankets and children to set off for an adventure. I did it begrudgingly at first, I admit. But the kids couldn’t have cared one whit about a later than normal dinner time. They were happier than I have seen them in a long time–full of glee and excitement. They shrieked and smiled and obeyed and embraced the idea as if it was the first time in the history of the world that a dad suggested taking a wagon ride at sunset.
We were gone for over an hour and by the time we got home those Goobies were hungry. They ate their noodles with Quattro Rosso sauce with gusto (and without complaint) while I spiralized the zucchini. Later that night, after take-home projects, baths and bedtime stories, after they were finally in bed and I felt too tired to blink let alone cook again, I somehow mustered up the energy to tackle the pile of uncooked zoodles waiting for me in the kitchen, and we ate them piled high in our bowls and swimming in that beautiful red sauce as we watched the Warriors lose a game we expected them to win.
I was exhausted by the time we went to bed. My brain was aching from the strain of a stop-start afternoon and evening, but I rested well in spite of it. My mind didn’t replay the events of the afternoon, keeping me in that frantic place where dinnertime seemed like such a problem to be dealt with instead of a time to enjoy. Instead, God whispered to me in those quiet moments, reminding me when I surrender my will to His and open myself wide to the mysterious truth that His ways are higher and better and far more exciting than mine, my stress sort of just melted away.
So much about my life feels out of control these days, but in his kindness, God took me by the hand and showed me that He’s leading me through my harried days, and I am so glad about that. This life is far too hectic to handle by myself, and really, I don’t know why I ever try to.
Quattro Rosso Sauce
I came up with this fancy red pasta sauce nearly three years ago, probably on a day when the cupboard was fairly bare and I’d have to get creative to get dinner on the table. We liked the magical combination of the four red elements in this sauce enough to write down the recipe alongside a note that reads, “Mia devoured this. ‘More! More! More!'”. This time around the girls were old enough to ask why I call it Quattro Rosso Sauce. When I explained I gave it that name because there are four red ingredients in it: roasted red peppers, tomato sauce, grape tomatoes and red wine, they both raised their eyebrows and Mia said, “Oop, I feel like a grown up.” Joey and I giggled and asked her why she felt like a grown up, and she said, “Because I’m eating wine.” Enjoy the sauce over pasta (like our kids did) or zucchini noodles (like we did, which would make this an S for you Trim Healthy Mamas out there. Or use lean ground turkey and serve it over zucchini noodles to make it an FP.)
- 1 pound ground turkey
- 1-12 oz. jar roasted red peppers (or a combination of sweet peppers, such as the ones from Trader Joe’s)
- 1-15 oz. can tomato sauce
- 1/2 cup red wine (such as Pinot Noir or Cabernet Sauvignon)
- 1 pint grape tomatoes, cut into quarters
- 1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 2 teaspoons herbs de Provence
- 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
First, mince the garlic. Then, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook gently for a minute or two, just until they become fragrant (and be sure not to burn them). Once you start to smell the garlic, add the ground turkey to the pan and then turn up the heat to medium high or high (being careful not to burn the garlic). Add 1 teaspoon kosher salt and stir the meat, breaking it up as it cooks.
Meanwhile, drain the roasted peppers. Using a food processor (or a blender, if you don’t have one), whirl the peppers, tomato sauce and herbs de Provence together until smooth. Add the mixture to the browned ground turkey and give it a good stir. Next, add the grape tomatoes and wine and mix well. Bring the sauce to a gentle boil. Cover and lower the heat so the sauce gently simmers for a good half hour (at least). The longer the sauce simmers, the better the flavor.