The Eggs

The Quail Springs team (L-R): Dustin, Sue, Ray, Brent, and Lauren

When life gives you hard-boiled eggs ...

Last week we had a lovely volunteer team from Quail Springs Baptist Church in Oklahoma City. When we host teams, they stay with us in our home. That means I generally prepare three meals a day for not only my family of seven but however many people are on the team. This team had five, and we were also hosting a Mozambican guy from Nampula who worked as a translator. So for most of last week, I planned and prepared three meals a day for thirteen people.

One of my favorite breakfasts to prepare for a crowd is called baked French toast. The brilliance of it is its simplicity—and the fact that it's prepared the night before, so the morning of, all you have to do is stick it in the oven. (And it's delicious.)

So last Thursday the team was gone all day to a village a couple of hours away. I was planning to serve the baked French toast Friday morning, but I didn't have enough eggs, so I decided to stop and buy some on my way home from picking up Judah from school. Normally Harvey does the grocery shopping, and I didn't really want to take the time to go into the store with Judah and Asher just to get eggs. So on my way to pick Judah up, I kept my eyes open as we passed the market areas to see if anyone was selling eggs. I noticed a spot very close to our house, perfect. I would stop there on the way home and get some.

And that's what I did. I stopped at the egg guy's stall and rolled my window down. He came right over to me, and I asked how much and even said, "They're good eggs, right?" And of course he said they were. So I bought fifteen eggs. All set. So pleased with myself.

We had planned to go out to dinner that night—our one meal out while the team was here. But they didn't get back from the village until around 7:30, so it was a late night at the restaurant; we didn't make it home until around ten.

Harvey and I helped the kids get their showers and get in bed, and then it was time for me to assemble the baked French toast. I melted the butter with the brown sugar, which goes in the bottom of the baking dishes. Then I stacked the slices of bread. Next up: eggs.

I grabbed an egg and cracked it. Huh. It was boiled. Oh, I thought, this must the egg I boiled earlier today. So I took another egg and cracked it. Boiled. "Oh no," I moaned. I had bought fifteen hard-boiled eggs. And it was almost 11 at night. There's no 24-hour Target to run to.

Harvey felt pity for me and offered to go check the markets to see if anyone still happened to be out and selling eggs. Nada. I guess there are no 24-hour markets in Pemba either.

What could I do? Yes, there's always cereal. But I had already assembled everything else. And it's supposed to soak in the eggs overnight. My only idea was to wake up at 5 in the morning, ask our guard to go try to find eggs (FRESH eggs) in the market, and if he did, pour them on and let it soak for an hour. Would it work? I had to give it a shot.

The next morning, I executed my plan, and it worked. Havelino found the eggs (FRESH eggs). I beat them and poured them on and let it soak for an hour. Then I baked it.

And it turned out pretty well. I don't think it was quite as good as with an overnight soak; it seemed a little dry to me. But I had plenty of homemade maple syrup, so that helped. And the team said it was tasty; one of the ladies even asked me for the recipe.

The remains of the baked French toast
(which disappeared shortly after the taking of this photo)

Who would have thought that a guy would be selling hard-boiled eggs by the side of the road? Yes, they're a yummy, healthy snack. But Harvey has bought eggs by the side of the road before and they have never been boiled. That could only happen to me, while I'm needing to feed a team and won't realize what happened until 11 p.m. the night before. Only me. I can cry in situations like this (which are not uncommon in Mozambique), or I can laugh. This time I was able to laugh.

The spiritual lesson? God provides? Trust Him in the small things? Don't worry about what you're going to eat? Yes and yes and amen.

But the practical lesson is this: When buying eggs by the side of the road in Pemba, always ask if they are FRESH!

And when life gives you hard-boiled eggs, thank God that you have a fast, easy breakfast to serve the kids for the next few days!

(To read about why we love having volunteer teams and how they benefit our ministry, see this post that I wrote last July. I think you'll enjoy it!)