During a recent family gathering, we were discussing one of my favorite topics: food! I reminisced about a delicious casserole I remember enjoying when I was younger. My Mom chimed in, mentioning that the recipe for that dish was actually included in the cookbook published by my former church. I had completely forgotten about the cookbook! (I will include the recipe that I was talking about below)

A couple of days later, I found myself at my parents’ house, flipping through the pages of the cookbook. I have to admit that I was not ready for the mix of emotions that it brought. As I turned the pages, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of memories flooding back. The familiar names of people I had known during my time growing up there filled the pages, and it was a bittersweet reminder of the connections I once had.

The cookbook was compiled and printed during a time in my life that I have mostly only fond memories of my former church and the people who attended at the time. It was a time where youth, naivety, and genuine respect for the kind and authentic leadership kept me from seeing any flaws in the doctrines and teachings.

Seeing those names, some of which I hadn’t thought about in years, was like reconnecting with old friends. Each name represented a face, a story, and a shared experience within the church community. It was a poignant reminder that despite the challenges and complexities of that time, there were genuine relationships that once held significant meaning in my life. (I remember eating many of the items in the cookbook at get togethers, dinners at friends’ houses, and church potlucks.)

But along with the warmth of recognition came a tinge of sadness. Looking at those names also reminded me of the distance that had grown between us. Leaving the church had naturally led to a gradual fading of those connections. It was a reminder that life moves forward, and paths diverge as we each go on our own separate ways.

The cookbook itself is a tangible link to a past that I had both embraced and outgrown. It held recipes and memories, but it also held the echoes of doctrines and beliefs that no longer aligned with my perspective. It was a snapshot of a different time, a world I had inhabited with a mix of joy and uncertainty.

As I closed the cookbook, I felt a sense of closure and gratitude. It was a chapter of my life that had shaped me in profound ways, but it was also a chapter that I had the courage to close. The emotions that surfaced while perusing those pages were a testament to the complexity of human experience—the intertwining of nostalgia, growth, and the resilience to move forward.

While the cookbook held more than just recipes, it is a reminder that even in the midst of change, there’s a thread of continuity that weaves through our lives. The bittersweet blend of recognition and separation highlighted that life is marked by both letting go and holding onto what truly matters.

CHICKEN CASSEROLE

2 whole chicken breasts

1 pt. sour cream

soup can milk

2 cans cream of chicken soup

1 (12-oz.) pkg. Pepperidge herb stuffing

Make stuffing as directed on package with 1 cup water and 1 stick of margarine. Cook chicken in water on stove with salt and pepper until tender. Debone meat; cut in large chunks. Place chicken in a 9 x 13-inch baking dish. Mix sour cream, soup and milk together until smooth. Pour over chicken. Top with stuffing. Bake at 350° for 1 hour.