The Problem with Potatoes

since I was scolded today for NEVER updating our blog anymore......

This has been on my mind and heart for awhile now, so I figure I might as well type it up and get it out. Let it be cathartic in some sense.

The problem with potatoes...
it's not that they pack on pounds, are a starchy vegetable, seem to have very little nutritional value (although some would argue against this), are hard to prepare, are pointless without bacon, or are difficult to store without them going bad, etc, etc....

The problem with potatoes...
is that they have eyes and yet do not see.

The problem with potatoes...
is that they clog garbage disposals in people's kitchen's sinks when their daughters lovingly try to help them out by peeling a bunch of potatoes and sending all the peels down the garbage disposal drain.

The REAL problem with potatoes is that they remind me of my sister and my dad. The above memory is of my sister within the last few years. She had tried to do something kind and loving for our mom in her house in Texas to try to help her out. Because my mom's hands bothered her often and she couldn't peel potatoes without her hands hurting her for days afterwards, my sister peeled a bunch of potatoes for my mom and sent all the peelings down the garbage disposal drain. The garbage disposal (much like most of the things and people who still resided in my parents' house) had long since been neglected or simply were not taking care of themselves. So...long story short...er... drains are all clogged up. Garbage disposal fried. All this while we (remaining family: brother, bro-n-law, husband, and maybe nephews) were working on rebuilding the deck on the back of my parents' house. Again, the deck had long been neglected and what boards there were around the concrete stairs at the top of the back kitchen door were rotting, not sound and certainly not capable of supporting the weight or providing stability for an elderly overweight top-heavy man (my dad) or an arthritic woman (my mom). Neglected, uncared for, not fulfilling its purpose. The house, the people and the potatoes.

This place was a death trap and they didn't see it. Just like the potatoes : they have eyes and yet do not see. There was danger all around and yet they just went blissfully through their lives living their meaningless daily routines without ever REALLY looking at the consequences. Things were rotting from the inside out. Hearts hardened to the realities of sin and the ultimate end, death, were dead. Rotting. Not seeing eyes were letting their owners stumble through life in darkness rather than strolling in the light. It was maddening! How can anyone stand to live like this? Yet when you live in darkness you get used to taking the next step without looking towards where you're going. They can't see the end coming. The next step after which there are no more steps. Just pain. Eternity without God and no rescue in sight because they'd already taken their last steps.

The problem with potatoes is that they remind me of a time when my dad was still alive and my parents both lived in their house in Texas. The problem with potatoes is that they remind me of one of the last times we were all together as a family working on something together. The problem with potatoes is that they remind me of that time when my sister was still alive and when got to share in one of those rare 'sister moments' of cooking in the kitchen together. The problem with potatoes is that they remind me of a time when I still had some hope that some of my immediate family members might not perish for eternity without knowing the completely undeserved salvation and grace of God through Jesus Christ.

The problem with potatoes is that they have eyes and yet do not see.