"The Pulao and the Providence”
A fragrant rice dish in Kabul stirred memories of divine provision, as a wayfarer reflects on grace, hospitality, and God’s faithful presence.
DAILY REFLECTIONS
Wandering Armenian
7/17/20252 min read


“The Pulao and the Providence”
As I call myself a Wayfarer, and I consider myself to be extremely fortunate and feel blessed by the Master to have taken me to unusual places and countries and given me an opportunity to taste different cuisines and experience different cultures. In this travel I had the privilege to spend a great deal of time and years in Afghanistan and what fascinated me was the Kabuli Pulao, a cuisine that is served at all meals and occasions. It’s a simple rice dish but cooked with love and dedication. Watching my host many a times cook this delicacy, it takes me back to how my God has cared for me, loved me and fed me.
Back in my first stint to the country in 2004, there was an elderly Afghan woman named Zainab, who lived in a small traditional mud home in Dashte Barchi area, west of Kabul. A widow who I believe had seen decades of war but never lost the gentleness of her spirit. She once told me, as she stirred the rice and sprinkled raisins, slivered almonds and shredded carrots into the dish, “Pulao must be patient. Let it breathe. That’s how it gives you back its aroma.”
And for many years that line lingered on with me. And I would always wonder how something so simple could be a parable. Over the years, as most of my deployments were nonfamily duty stations, I would spend my evenings and weekends doing some cuisine experiments in my team house kitchen. I would go over those words uttered by this kind old friend of mine. But now those words make sense to me. Like Zainab tended her rice, God had tended to me in silence, in fire, in patience in these last few years of being unemployed. Kabuli Pulao was not just food. It was grace on a plate. It reminded me that in every grain, every dried fruit, every subtle spice, was a lesson of care, intention, and unseen work — just as the Lord works quietly behind the scenes in our lives.
My journey with the Master has often felt like the making of that pulao. Waiting. Trusting. Surrendering. But in the end, there was always flavour, always fulfilment, always enough.
“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.”— Lamentations 3:2526 (ESV) It validates the emotional undercurrent of the story — that God's goodness comes in His timing, often subtly, but always richly. I realized that "The Lord is good to those who wait" aligns with the journey of surrender and faith the Wayfarer walks.
And these lines below can sum up everything that I have said above…
In grains of rice and gentle flame,
I saw the Shepherd call my name.
Through foreign lands His grace did flow,
In every meal, His love did show.
