The Kitchen Prayer That Still Speaks

In the heart of my childhood home, nestled on our family farm, hung a small, worn plaque that carried more weight than any grand decoration ever could. Shaped like a scalloped dish and etched with utensils, flowers, and loaves of bread, this humble wall hanging bore the title: “My Kitchen Prayer.”

It hung there for years — not just as a decoration, but as a quiet declaration of what mattered most. My mother’s hands cooked meals beneath that plaque. Her prayers, her faith, and her love for her family simmered in every pot on that stove. Though she has been gone for 31 years now, her spirit still lingers — not only in my memories but also in the traditions that continue today.

The plaque now hangs in my sister’s kitchen, gently aged and softened by time, yet just as powerful. There, meals are still prepared with love. Prayers are still spoken before the first bite. Her sons were raised to know what it means to bow their heads in thanksgiving — and now, her grandsons do too.

It humbles me deeply to see that the faith my parents instilled in us has not faded. Instead, it has taken root and flourished in the next generation. And all from a simple prayer, faithfully read in the kitchen — the sacred space where nourishment meets love.

Here is the full prayer from the plaque:

My Kitchen Prayer

God bless my little kitchen,
I love its every nook
And bless me as I do my work,
Wash pots and pans and cook.
And may the meals that I prepare
Be seasoned from above
With Thy great blessing and Thy grace
But most of all Thy love.
So bless my little kitchen, God,
And those who enter in,
May they find naught but joy & peace
and happiness therein.

Isn’t it something how truth ages so well? The metal may tarnish, but the meaning only grows more beautiful with time.

As I reflect on my parents’ legacy, I’m reminded of this scripture:

“But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
— Joshua 24:15 (KJV)

That verse was lived out daily in our home — not in loud declarations, but in quiet faithfulness: in shared meals, whispered prayers, and the everyday blessings we too often overlook. And now, that legacy continues in the homes of their children and grandchildren.

Yes, the plaque is old. Yes, it’s worn. But its message? Still as fresh as warm bread out of the oven. A reminder that even the smallest corners of our lives — our kitchens, our family tables, our daily routines — can be sacred ground.

May we all be so blessed to carry that spirit forward.