Mixing Spices: “Faith in the Flavor”

Mixing Spices: “Faith in the Flavor”

Scripture: “For we live by faith, not by sight.” — 2 Corinthians 5:7 (NIV)

My fleeting time in this small but densely populated country located in the northeastern part of South Asia and quite famous for its Mangroves. Once known as East Pakistan now Bangladesh. It was but off course, work took me there as I was deployed to a Rohingya Refugee Rehab Project. And these camps are mostly in Cox’s Bazar, a coastal town in Bangladesh. During my time there, I had the opportunity to interact with these people who resided in cyclone shelters along Bangladesh’s coasts, and you may wonder how I communicated with these refugee folks. Well, even to my utter surprise many of them spoke Urdu/ Hindi as they told me they watch movies, and I must admit that movies and food can connect and teach people a lot.

During my visits I had the opportunity to share a meal with some of these humble refugee folks who ate countless bowls of bland rice, “Yes, my friend no salt, no spice, just sustenance to keep people alive.” It was enough to survive, but not to thrive. Sitting down on the mat in their bamboo huts, I dreamed of flavors, of colors, of something to warm the heart. But I was totally mistaken, a false assumption.

But today standing in my kitchen, I gather cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves-sprinkling them into my batter. The scent rises instantly, transforming everything. Faith works like that: a small pinch, unseen but powerful, awakening the soul even in the plainest seasons.

Back then, there were times when I felt that my life as a humanitarian worker felt flavorless, numbed by tiredness and routine. Yet God whispered to me then, “Trust Me- even if you cannot see Me.” That faith, though small, changed the blandness of my days into something fragrant, something hopeful.

Spices make me believe that even a quarter spoon of faith, when poured into a bowl of weary spirit, can warm and renew it. God does not ask me to measure out giant leaps; He only asks for a pinch of trust, then He infuses the rest.

As I stir spices into my baking, I remember the faith of those humble refugees, who rebuilt homes after every storm, refusing to give up. They seasoned their hopelessness with courage, showing me that faith is never wasted.

Poetic Reflection:

You stir faith’s spice through weary days,
Infuse my heart in subtle ways.
A fragrant hope, unseen, so true,
That season’s life with trust in You.