The microwave is a precarious household appliance and I just can’t quite decide my feelings. Primarily my microwave oven sees left-overs and soup enter its magical heating cavity. Now and then, I’ll steam some veggies or defrost some meat. And on the odd occasion, if I’m craving a bacon sanga (I love love love bacon, if bacon was a man, I would marry him) I’ll nuke a few rashers within an inch of their death and team with some toast, cheese and bbq sauce.
Aside from the odd rasher of bacon sizzling away in the microwave (only in the direst of situations), I am opposed to the idea of cooking protein in said contraption. The idea of scrambling eggs, cooking a steak or ‘roasting’ a piece of flesh on that whizzing turntable makes me want to dry retch. Even more disgusting is when you are defrosting some meat and the edges of it begin to cook. Every time I decide to defrost meat in the microwave I take every precaution to avoid baking the edges, and every time I fail miserably. No matter how short the spurts of heat are between each other, the edges inevitably turn to rubber and I end up trying to preserve bits of flesh that haven’t been obliterated.
Another peril of microwaving is the creation of a hot milo. I’ve never understood people who make milo like a cup of tea, boiling the water, stirring in the milo and pouring in a smidgen of milk. Milo is best enjoyed with a cup full of milky goodness. Thus, when I brew a hot milo it involves heating the milk. Doing this on the stovetop is just too much work and consequently the microwave and its magical powers come into play. Getting the timing right is essential, too long and your milk froths up like a dog with rabies and spills over the turntable, not long enough and the milk is left lukewarm. The perfect hot milo is steaming hot all the way through, with a nice chocolaty crust on the top. This beauty is nigh impossible to achieve, but once you are triumphant you’ll be sipping on heaven in a cup.
I get quite frustrated when I microwave food and it come out lukewarm. My Nanna used to always say ‘I like my hot food, HOT’ and while her version of hot burns the tastebuds off your tongue, whenever my food I lukewarm I can’t help but agree with her.
Not that long ago I was reading the book of Revelation and came across the following passage:
“I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” Revelation 3:15-17
I’d like to say that each time I read this scripture that it overwhelmingly resonates with me and I cry like a baby. It probably should, but honestly, it doesn’t often have that effect on me. Don’t get me wrong, I love God and I try each day to live in a way that honours him but I do fail. I swear, I have one drink too much, I am jealous of others, I gossip and I am impatient (and more!).
Basically, I’m lukewarm.
It’s not because I don’t love God, because I do. Most likely, it’s because I don’t fully comprehend what Jesus achieved for me at Calvary. I know that he died for me – I’ve read the book, seen the movie and sung the songs. I hear stories about people who’ve been facing death and have had to trust God with their life, because without him they would have been cactus and I wonder what it would really be like to let go totally and have faith that God was going to pull through.
If I had to truly trust God for my life, I know I would be clinging onto the truths of the Bible and definitely would be ‘hot’ in my faith, because it’s the only thing able to sustain me. Currently, I live in a self-sustaining society, where there is no apparent need for God, making it so easy to cruise through my days and forget about how revolutionary the Gospel is.
In a world with microwaves, we might think we don’t need God. But on the days when I do read the Bible and it truly resonates with me, I can’t deny Gods existence and how he has sustained me through the darkest times in my life. It’s in these moments where I’m no longer lukewarm, but hot, hot, hot. I wish I was always hot and not lukewarm, but truthfully, I don’t think this is attainable until heaven. So until I’m sipping on piping hot milos with Jesus on a cumulus nimbus cloud, I’m going to look at my microwave remember what he did for me and stay as hot as I can.
Aside from the odd rasher of bacon sizzling away in the microwave (only in the direst of situations), I am opposed to the idea of cooking protein in said contraption. The idea of scrambling eggs, cooking a steak or ‘roasting’ a piece of flesh on that whizzing turntable makes me want to dry retch. Even more disgusting is when you are defrosting some meat and the edges of it begin to cook. Every time I decide to defrost meat in the microwave I take every precaution to avoid baking the edges, and every time I fail miserably. No matter how short the spurts of heat are between each other, the edges inevitably turn to rubber and I end up trying to preserve bits of flesh that haven’t been obliterated.
Another peril of microwaving is the creation of a hot milo. I’ve never understood people who make milo like a cup of tea, boiling the water, stirring in the milo and pouring in a smidgen of milk. Milo is best enjoyed with a cup full of milky goodness. Thus, when I brew a hot milo it involves heating the milk. Doing this on the stovetop is just too much work and consequently the microwave and its magical powers come into play. Getting the timing right is essential, too long and your milk froths up like a dog with rabies and spills over the turntable, not long enough and the milk is left lukewarm. The perfect hot milo is steaming hot all the way through, with a nice chocolaty crust on the top. This beauty is nigh impossible to achieve, but once you are triumphant you’ll be sipping on heaven in a cup.
I get quite frustrated when I microwave food and it come out lukewarm. My Nanna used to always say ‘I like my hot food, HOT’ and while her version of hot burns the tastebuds off your tongue, whenever my food I lukewarm I can’t help but agree with her.
Not that long ago I was reading the book of Revelation and came across the following passage:
“I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” Revelation 3:15-17
I’d like to say that each time I read this scripture that it overwhelmingly resonates with me and I cry like a baby. It probably should, but honestly, it doesn’t often have that effect on me. Don’t get me wrong, I love God and I try each day to live in a way that honours him but I do fail. I swear, I have one drink too much, I am jealous of others, I gossip and I am impatient (and more!).
Basically, I’m lukewarm.
It’s not because I don’t love God, because I do. Most likely, it’s because I don’t fully comprehend what Jesus achieved for me at Calvary. I know that he died for me – I’ve read the book, seen the movie and sung the songs. I hear stories about people who’ve been facing death and have had to trust God with their life, because without him they would have been cactus and I wonder what it would really be like to let go totally and have faith that God was going to pull through.
If I had to truly trust God for my life, I know I would be clinging onto the truths of the Bible and definitely would be ‘hot’ in my faith, because it’s the only thing able to sustain me. Currently, I live in a self-sustaining society, where there is no apparent need for God, making it so easy to cruise through my days and forget about how revolutionary the Gospel is.
In a world with microwaves, we might think we don’t need God. But on the days when I do read the Bible and it truly resonates with me, I can’t deny Gods existence and how he has sustained me through the darkest times in my life. It’s in these moments where I’m no longer lukewarm, but hot, hot, hot. I wish I was always hot and not lukewarm, but truthfully, I don’t think this is attainable until heaven. So until I’m sipping on piping hot milos with Jesus on a cumulus nimbus cloud, I’m going to look at my microwave remember what he did for me and stay as hot as I can.
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