The Pancake Epiphany

Nicole Johnson shares a lesson she learned when carrying on a beloved family tradition.

Pancakes. Flapjacks. Hotcakes. Whatever you like to call them, these little round wonders have been a big part of my life. Throughout my childhood, every Saturday morning without fail, my dad would get up with me and my two sisters, mix up the batter like the flapjack master he was, and serve up some warm, yummy goodness for breakfast. Much to my mother’s dismay, this one weekly go at chef somehow eclipsed the other twenty meals she religiously prepared for our family week after week after week.

The pancake tradition even became a fast favorite for any friends who slept over on Friday night and therefore got to partake in the Saturday morning fare. My mom just loves it (a-hem) when old friends still comment on Mr. Deforge's pancakes after all these years. 

A Father’s Promise  

My oldest sister would take her pancakes with blueberries, while I wouldn’t begin to entertain the thought of adding fruit to my syrup-soaked sugar fest. And then there was the middle sister who was completely unhinged and took hers with butter only, no syrup. Of course I didn’t recognize it then, but I now understand my dad was feeding us much more than eggs, flour and butter. His presence at the griddle every Saturday morning built within us an unspoken understanding of his love and his promise to provide — a promise he has fulfilled in abundant and selfless ways for each of his daughters — regardless of how we took our pancakes.  

The Saturday tradition is one I have carried into my own family and, quite unexpectedly, this seemingly simple culinary dedication recently taught me a larger life lesson. Since we moved into our new home a few months ago, the griddle I always used to cook pancakes no longer works with our new stove. As such, I’ve been making do with a large fry pan. This has not gone well. It’s nearly impossible to flip each pancake without it running into its neighbor, causing all sorts of flapjack frustration.

I was set on the need to purchase a griddle until this past Saturday when my pancake epiphany struck. It’s silly, and quite maddeningly obvious, but I decided to be crazy and tried pouring just one large pancake into the pan. The flip was clean, the pancake cooked perfectly, and it even tasted the same. Genius. I had what I needed all along. I just needed to take a breath and look at things a bit differently.  

Questioning Whether We Have What We Need  

The start of a new year can be overwhelming. 365 days of possibility can, at least for a lover of control like me, meet with a myriad of questions, what-ifs and an abundance of anxiety. I want to commit to all sorts of fabulous new year resolutions until the doubts start creeping in about my capacity to meet whatever dreamed-up goal I might have. 

I’m blessed to serve in many roles: wife, mama, sister, mother-in-law, friend, co-worker and this year will take on the new role of grandmother. So many opportunities to serve and ample opportunity to fail. I can get stuck in a pattern of worry that I’m not measuring up, fixate on past mistakes or stress that I won’t meet the challenges ahead. It’s so easy to doubt. Until I remember my number one role in this life — that of living as the beloved daughter of God that I am. In that role I can be 100% confident that I have been given all I need to succeed. 

My strategy for 2026? To be present at the griddle. To take one day at a time and one day only. To be grateful for each day and trust I’ve been given all I need to make the very most of that one day. To pray for the peace to move on from yesterday and the patience to leave tomorrow's tasks to tomorrow.

Today is the gift. Today He is present. Today, if we ask, we have the promise of His wisdom, His guidance and His grace. Today I need to remember to thank Him for all the ways He provides for His daughter.   

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Copyright 2026 Nicole Johnson
Images: Canva