I know Easter is all about Jesus, and I am forever grateful for the sacrifice He made. But Easter always brings to my mind deviled eggs, and deviled eggs bring to my mind my mother, Reba.
Reba was the world champion deviled egg maker. She was very honored that her deviled eggs were always one of the first things to disappear at every church dinner. She had her own secret recipe and she never wrote it down. It was a touch of this, a spoonful of that, a dash of this, etc. And tasting constantly to see if more of this was needed, or if too much of that was in there, and then how to make the adjustment so that it tasted just right.
I sat down with her in the last year of her life and we attempted to come up with a recipe. My siblings had also tried this at various times. We wanted to be able replicate “Mom’s deviled eggs” after she was gone.
So we sat in the kitchen of her care home and began to add this and that, and I would write down what we added and how much of it we added. It was quite a production, really, because it doesn’t matter whether something tastes good–it has to taste “right.” Just ask her care-givers about the time she threw her fork because they didn’t make biscuits and gravy “right”!
Oh yes, there was always a right and a wrong way to do things, and as long as you did it her way, you were doing it right. That’s not to say she couldn’t learn new ways of doing something occasionally. I remember the time I made my famous frosted banana cookies and dipped the tops of the cookies in the icing instead of spreading it on with a knife. She thought that was brilliant and decided that would be her new “right” way.
My siblings and I all learned early in our lives that once our mom decided that something was right, we had better just hang on, because that was going to be the way it was from that point on. Take for instance, Sunday School perfect attendance pins. Your first year of perfect attendance (that means you were in Sunday School every Sunday for a year), you would receive a little round pin to wear that said “one year.” Then the next year, you would get an open circular pin that encased the first one. Then each year after that, you would get a little bar with the year on it that hung on the bottom of the one above it. So eventually you had something that looked like a little ladder pinned to your lapel. Each year there was a ceremony dedicated to the presentation of the perfect attendance pins. This was a really big deal to my mom and she made sure that each of her children qualified to receive that pin every year. It was the right thing to do.
I have a very strong concept of what is right and what is wrong, and I think I probably owe that to my mother. And that is a good thing, for the most part, but I have noticed over my lifetime, that if I don’t pay attention, it can easily become a form of judgment. Someone is not doing it right according to what I believe to be right, therefore they are doing it wrong. But, here’s what I’ve come to recognize, if the goal is to get from point A to point B, and someone ends up at point B by going a different way than I do, then maybe there is more than one right way? Could it be? Is it really possible that there is more than one way to accomplish something and all those ways could be right as long as it leads to the end result? No, I’m not saying it’s okay to go off-road when the sign clearly says, “do not go off-road, but what if there is no sign and no safety issues, etc.? Then why not do what is faster, smarter, and less work to get to point B?
I think that is where the Pharisees of Jesus’ time fell short. Many of us are the same. This is the way I do it; this is the way it’s always been done; this is the way everyone should do it. But then Jesus showed up, and he keeps showing up all the time–at least He does in my life. I can hear Him telling me, “Back off and let them do it their way. You be you and let them be them.”
So I don’t know for sure how deviled eggs led me here, except for the fact that I really wanted to show you how I’m celebrating a quarantined Easter by baptizing those little devilish eggs in colored water that I have deemed to be holy. So naturally I had to write something to justify this little act of showing off how clever I am.
Happy Easter, everyone. He is risen! He is risen indeed. Hallelujah!
P.S. Here is Reba’s Deviled Egg recipe (to the best of our knowledge…), in case you want to decide for yourself if they are the best ever.
- Reba’s Deviled Eggs
- Hard-boil one dozen eggs, cool, and remove shells
- Cut eggs in half lengthwise and remove yolks, placing them in a small mixing bowl.
- Add the following ingredients and stir until well-blended:
- 3 T Kraft Sandwich Spread
- 3 T Mayonnaise
- 1 tsp yellow mustard
- 1 2/2 tsp apple cider vinegar
- 1/4 tsp sugar
- 1/4 tsp onion powder
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1/4 tsp pepper
- 1/4 tsp paprika
- 1/8 tsp celery seed
- Scoop mixture back into egg white halves
- Sprinkle tops of eggs with paprika
Loved your story! I can so relate. PS., I make deviled eggs without a recipe either. Alittle bit of this and that, and they turn out pretty amazing!
LOVED this Sue! Brilliant! Wish we still had the attendance pins and ceremony for Sunday School! Love that you have yours to this day! Thank you for the recipe! Kind of you to share!
What a interesting way to get from “baptized deviled eggs to Christ is Risen”! I think even Mom would enjoy this pathyou traveled.
I love you bunches sister,