Peeling Carrots

I was making stew and my daughter asked if she could help.  I pointed her towards the carrots and told her to peel them and cut them up.  She picked up the peeler and asked what to do.  I explained she'd use it just like she did on potatoes or cucumbers.

"Um, okay," she said.

By then, my son had joined us and was watching.  He put his two cents in, "Just peel them and they'll be like you see on salad bars."

I kept working until she said, "Um, mom, are you sure this is what you want me to do?"

I turned toward her and laughed.  The end of her carrot was now slender from multiple cuts down it with the peeler.  

"Well, you only go down it one time, just to remove the top layer of skin."

She said, "Well, I thought so, but he said to keep peeling."  

He defended himself, "Well, that's how they do it at the salad bars."  

I agreed envisioning the ribbons of carrots topping the salads at our local Italian restaurant, "Yeah, but that's not how we want them for our stew."

"Well, who knew carrots had skin anyway!" my daughter said.  I smiled, they were learning in the strangest of ways and who knew they didn't know how to peel carrots for stew (who is their mother anyway?).

It was this that made me think about the layers of people.  We all have that outer layer, the one that protects us.  You know it's the one that keeps us from telling people about the things that hurt us, the things that scare us, the sins we've committed, or the struggles we are going through.  The ironic thing is it is often this layer that keeps us from healing, keeps us from really seeing each other.

It's when we peel away that layer and reveal the beautiful soul in us, the soul that has been broken a few times, mended together, and now works every day to deliver us to the next day.  It's that part that melds us together and helps us understand each other.  We should do more peeling back.  

It's where I think God is taking me, to a place where my layers get peeled back, where honesty becomes part of my everyday.