Vinegar Butter

I learned from my grandmother how to bake biscuits, thick and fluffy.  My mother taught me to quilt.  My father taught me to take care of my car.  My grandfather taught me laughter was contagious.   The lessons go on and on.  Each person touching my life, leaving behind tidbits of knowledge, and I, in turn, pass it on to those that cross my path.  

There is a recipe for gravy that my grandmother made, it's called Vinegar Butter.   Not everyone has a taste for this unusual dish, but I remember it fondly.   I don't believe she ever wrote down the recipe but she did teach my mother, who taught me.   The gravy is a plum color - IF you know the secret - otherwise, it is colorless and unattractive.   I have often wondered if my great grandchildren will have the opportunity to try this treat, but unless I teach someone how to make it they will never know.

Our experiences are gifts we can share with future generations.  We have a small window of opportunity to be the giver, and if it passes, the gifts are lost forever.   Many of our experiences as children of God are like my grandmothers gravy. While they remain precious to us and we tenderly embrace the memory, we have not yet shared these gifts with our children. 

Pass it on.

Psalm 78:1-7 (NIV)

My people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth.   I will open my mouth with a parable; I will utter hidden things, things from of old—things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us.   We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power, and the wonders He has done.   He decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which He commanded our ancestors to teach their children, so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children.  Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget His deeds but would keep His commands.