The Ministry of Baked Ziti
I hate accepting help. There, I said it. I’m the chronic people-pleaser who likes to have it all under control and likes to do it all myself and does NOT like to admit I need help. I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this because I have talked with countless women about this very thing and have spoken on it in many settings, each time having women come up to me afterward saying they fully relate. Even asking for rides to the airport used to be excruciating for me. I was the first to volunteer to give anyone else a ride, even way before dawn, but asking for help myself? No thank you. Except there are times when we desperately need the help aren’t there? Maybe it’s the birth of a new baby or an illness or just a long season of job stress but there are seasons in each of our lives where we simply can’t do it all by ourselves.
When I was in seminary I came down with mono. I’ve never been so sick in my life, somedays literally crawling to the bathroom and sitting in the shower while I washed my hair because I could not stand. I had to drop all of my classes and my friends had to drive me places, take me to doctor’s appointments and make sure I had groceries and laundry done. And they did. It was the most humbling experience of my life laying on my couch watching dear friends fold my clothes and stock my refrigerator.
When I had both of my babies was another season where I simply couldn’t handle all the details of life—especially trying to feed myself and my family as I recovered from my c-sections, nursed around the clock and didn’t sleep. And in both of those seasons the amazing families from our church and ladies from my MOPS group stepped up and brought meals for a few weeks, came over to hold my fussy baby while I showered or ate and made sure I knew I wasn’t alone.
In August of 2014 Charles came home from work one night not feeling super well. He went upstairs to lie down and about 5 minutes later I heard a crash and a cry and found him in the fetal position on the floor panting in pain. Thank goodness a good friend of mine was at our house, having come over for dinner that evening. She stayed with Aidan (I was 5 months pregnant with Asher at the time) and I raced my husband to the ER. Well after midnight we finally found out he had pancreatitis and was being admitted to the hospital. We’d never heard of it but we learned a lot over the next ten days he was there. I spent ten days juggling childcare for Aidan as I ran back and forth to the hospital twice a day. I'd drop him somewhere in the morning, hurry in to hopefully catch the doctor's morning rounds, race to pick Aidan up and get him home in time for a nap and then dropped him off somewhere else for the afternoon while I ran back to the hospital until it was time to run and pick Aidan up to get him home before bedtime. After several days of this, when it was obvious Charles wasn’t going to get better any time soon and this was going to be a long term recovery my friend Karen called me and said “Sarah you can’t do this alone. You are pregnant, exhausted, stressed and have a 2.5 year old to take care of too. You have to let the church help somehow. You have to let me set up a meal sign up for you.” So I finally agreed, still kind of under the illusion that I was fine and could handle it all on my own.
The first night my doorbell rang and it was our friend Beth and her sweet daughter Carli. They are an Italian family who loves cooking—Carli is even a pastry chef. They arrived with a box of food and unpacked it in my kitchen—a large pan of homemade baked ziti with a marinara sauce that had been simmering all day. A salad, fresh garlic bread and a batch of Carli’s famous chocolate chip cookies. There I was exhausted, pregnant, so scared that my husband wasn’t going to recover any time soon or even at all, with a very active little boy who still wanted attention. These two ladies showed up with enough food to feed us for days. It was made from scratch with so much love and I simply started to cry. They gave me hugs and told me I wasn’t alone, it was okay to accept help and it was their pleasure to be able to serve us in that way. So many other amazing families brought us food over the next few weeks—lasagnas and soups and casseroles and salads and treats for Aidan and I will never forget the gift it was to have someone text me saying “dinner is on it’s way.” That church fed us for almost a month—even once he was released from the hospital Charles was sick for months, it was a long recovery. Some folks sent in take out meals and some brought homemade dishes and every single one of those dinners was the greatest gift.
When meal sign ups go around via Facebook or email, I always try and commit to feeding another family. Yes I do like cooking but more than that I’ve been on the receiving end of those meal trains and I know what a necessary gift it is in certain seasons of life. What I’ve learned by being on the receiving end of many meals is that it does not have to be fancy. Yes Beth and Carli blew me away with their gift of the most amazing homemade Italian food I’ve ever had, but the couple who picked up take out from a local BBQ place and arrived with chicken breasts, tri-tip and containers of Mac and cheese for Aidan also brought me to my knees in gratitude. It was nourishing food that I didn’t have to prepare, it was waiting for me when I would arrive home from the hospital.
Feeding others is holy work. There’s a reason you don’t serve yourself communion in a worship service, why the pastor always receives communion from someone else and doesn’t just serve herself. Theologically, receiving communion from someone involves humility, admitting we are too much of a sinner to save ourselves, desperate for grace. Receiving food from others, just like receiving holy communion, involves opening one’s hands to the gift God has for us. We tear off a piece of bread and let someone else proclaim to us “this is the body of Christ, it’s been broken for you.” We arrive on someone’s doorstep with a foil pan of lasagna and say “this is a gift of grace for you in this time of need.” And as we open our hands to receive, as we finally admit we aren’t perfect and strong all the time and that we actually can’t handle all that life has thrown at us on our own, only then do we begin to find healing. Sometimes at the altar rails of a communion service. And sometimes on a door step as we find foil pans and Tupperware full of grace.
I don't know how to make homemade baked ziti. I should learn though because it was pretty fantastic! But I do know how to make killer enchiladas. This is my go-to meal when I take dinner to another family because I've never made these and had people not rave about them and ask for the recipe. They are a bit of work, so I always double the batch and make several trays, one to take to someone, one for us to eat that night and one or two for my freezer. You can use a rotisserie chicken for the meat or simply boil chicken breasts until they shred. The sauce it made from scratch and is divine--both of my kids will eat this meal with no complaints, which is kind of remarkable in this season of pickiness. They freeze and re-heat perfectly, just thaw them in the refrigerator for a day or two and then bake as instructed.
Sauce
2 tbsp flour
11/2 tbsp chili powder
11/4 tbsp cocoa powder
1/2 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
11/2 cup water
21/2 cups tomato sauce
Filling:
1 lb chicken breasts
1 15 oz can black beans
1 1/2 cups Monterey Jack cheese, shredded
4 oz green chilis
2 tsp cumin
2 tsp garlic powder
salt & pepper, to taste
Tortillas
Sauce
1. Combine the flour, chili powder, cocoa powder, sugar and salt. Set aside.
2. In a medium saucepan add the tomato sauce, water, tomato paste.
3. Heat the tomato mixture and then whisk in the flour mixture.
4. Continue stirring over medium heat while the sauce thickens.
5. Simmer on low for 30-45 minutes stirring occasionally. (it does bubble and splatter so I put a lid on the pot or a mesh screen to avoid destroying my stove completely)
Filling
1. Cut chicken into cubes and cook. Set aside.
2. In a medium bowl combine the chicken, beans, 1 cup cheese, chili, cumin and garlic powder.
3. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
4. Pour 1 cup sauce into a glass baking dish (or foil pan if they are going to someone else or your freezer) and spread evenly.
5. Use a spoon and lightly spread a layer of sauce on one side of a tortilla.
6. Put a scoop of filling in each tortilla and roll. Put the tortilla in the baking dish seam side down. Pour remaining sauce over the enchiladas.
7. Bake uncovered at 400 degrees for 20-25 minutes. Remove and sprinkle with remaining cheese. Return to oven for 5 minutes.
