Pie

It’s been a weird week. There’s probably always a strange dance happening between my flesh, my spirit, God, and the devil, and this week I just happened to be hyper aware of that. There’s a tension in my inner person that is tangible in my shoulders. My heart is prone to wander, as the hymn goes. I need Jesus so much. I’m waiting. Stuck in the ambiguous middle of a bunch of potential transition points. I’ve been praying for a new job by the end of summer, and have an initial interview this week. I’m not sure where I fit in at church, and have been praying about that, too. A vision for how to serve there has started to piece itself together, but I’m still so unsure of myself. I don’t know what calling means. Community groups are about to start up again, and ours was getting a bit funky before we paused for the summer. Not sure what it will be like when we resume. There are these men that I keep inadvertently stringing along because I don’t want to hurt their feelings by being honest about my complete lack of interest. I think the Lord is calling me to let go of a few very comforting things, but I’m scarred and unsure of his voice. It feels like junior high in a bad way.

And so I make pie. It’s become my ‘I’m feeling awkward and unsteady and need to be alone with butter for a little while’ stress release. That probably doesn’t even make sense. Basically, baking helps me to feel less dark and twisty inside. Last year it was challah that drew me into a really special, intimate sort of communion with Jesus. This year it’s pie. Pie is comforting and warm. If it’s smell had a name it would be ‘Welcome.’ It’s so simple. You take some really beautiful fruit and wrap it up in a package of golden, buttery goodness and bake it until its lovely scent has so filled your home that you can’t take it anymore and you pull it out of the oven to share it with your friends and neighbors because that’s what pie demands.

Jesus uses pie to soothe my angsty soul. When I got home from church today everything felt confused and muddy. I wanted answers and closure to some of these things I’ve been asking God about I hadn’t gotten any. Again. And then I made a peach pie and meditated on God’s provision and how he’s weaving his story through my broken, wayward life. On how I could make blue ribbon crust and still the best part of the pie will always be the fruit inside that I had nothing at all to do with creating. And life started to be hopeful again, not because I figured anything out but because the Lord in his great mercy reminded me of his sweetness. I got the only answer my anxious heart truly needed today: I am dancing over you as you make pie.