I am not a baker

I was asked to make dessert tonight for a family get together and well, I failed miserably. The sad thing is it wasn't even a dessert that was to be baked - an un-baked, baked item, if you will.

Fortunately, for our family members, we live in a time when I can just hit up the store on the way over to their home and buy something someone else made. Unfortunately, it will probably have wheat and lots of sugar, both of which I was attempting to stay away from with the dessert I was making. I mean of course it would have some sugar, but not globs of it.

Its funny how failing at something can affect your heart. Before the 'baking' began I was feeling both brave and trepidatious. I had both high hopes of success, but also anxiety that I might fail again. Most of my attempts at creating desserts don't pan out the way I intend for them too, so I was certainly going into this project humbly. However, even with knowing my own track record, my heart was crushed when it didn't turn out.

It reminded me of the time that my mom spent a morning making one of her divine quiches, only to have it fall out of her hands upon exiting the oven. It was in a glass dish and shattered when it met our blue tile floor. I remember sitting in the dining area, watching this event unfold and feeling an overwhelming sense of, "Thats not fair! Don't you know how long she worked on that?" Of course I don't know who I would be talking to had I actually said those words. Still it was the injustice of it all. I wasn't surprised when her reaction was to silently sniffle while picking up the pieces of egg and glass. I remember my heart hurting deeply for her. Cooking is one of her joys in life, and this was like cooking just stabbed her in the back. I know that sounds pretty severe, but hey, thats what it looked like.

Today I found myself in my mother's shoes. It seems a silly thing to be so distraught over a ruined dessert, but my heart felt literally crushed. Crushed like that broken pyrex dish in my mother's kitchen. Maybe it was my hopeful expectations. Maybe it was the fact that I felt I might actually overcome my supposedly life long curse of being unable to bake. Maybe it was because it is a REALLY tasty treat and I was looking forward to eating something I could actually enjoy (ie.; a wheat-less dessert). Or maybe it was just a pity party.

I will admit, the pity party was a major factor, I knew that while I was in it. It is hard to get over something that is so disappointing, especially when it has just freshly happened.

As I was cleaning up the mess I was sad that there was no one around to take pity on me. I was all alone in my failure with out a shoulder to cry on, and that made it even harder to 'get over it'. I laid on the couch and had these thoughts: " I am not getting over this, I don't know how to stop feeling bad, I feel so bad for myself and my failure, what am I supposed to do so that I can get over this?" I know it sounds ridiculous, but hey I'm just being honest here.

Then the most amazing thing happened - Josh called. I told him what happened and he said it would be alright and that we would pick something up from the store on the way over. Its funny because although these weren't the soothing pitying words I was hoping for, I still felt better that at leastleast someone had heard how upset I was. After that it was all too easy to get over myself.

I wish that I could have just brushed it off with out dragging Josh to my pity party (though at least, for his sake, he didn't have to stay long). I know that there will be bigger failures in my life that I will handle with just as little grace as I did with this one, and I don't like that thought one bit. I'm not afraid of failing at things, I know that is part of life, but it is scary how one little failed dessert can bring such a self love out of my heart. Had Josh not called and heard the tears in my voice, I could possibly still be moping around here with my shoulders literally slumped in defeat (I say this because I was shocked that even my posture took on a 'poor me' attitude). Had he not heard my sadness, I wonder if I would have carried the pain of failure with me until someone did hear my sad story. I actually think I would have.

There is a vs. I read the other day that struck a chord in my heart and has been resonating since. It reads like this, "Love your neighbor as yourself". It has stuck with me because when I read it I heard another voice putting forth the thought, "Do you even love your husband and child like that?" Yikes! I know that we would hardly admit this, but isn't it true that we really REALLY love our selves? Its not like we gawk and stare at ourselves in the mirror and praise our worthy attributes, but we do care an awful lot for our own bodies. I obviously care a lot for myself as evident from the pity party I threw for myself, but do I love others in that same way that when they are down I will be there for them to turn to? I want very badly to say yes, but knowing myself, if it inconveniences me I might easily turn aside and let them fall on someone else's shoulder. I admit that I HATE this about myself, but it is the me that is me apart from Christ. That does not justify me not loving my neighbor as myself, on the other hand it ought to liberate me from feeling like a 'bad christian'. I am "wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked", as Jesus said of the church of Laodicea in Revelation 3:17, yet I am still commanded to love my neighbor as I love myself. How can such a wretched, miserable, blind person do such an amazing thing? Ah it is only through abiding in Jesus Christ. John 15 talks about abiding in Jesus, and Galatians 5 talks about walking by the Spirit so that you do not cary out the desires of the sinful flesh. My sinful flesh wants to love me and care for others at my own convenience, in the context I am willing to love, and only with the resources I think are enough to get the job done. Christ's command calls me to do something far greater than that, though. His command, "Love your neighbor as yourself" means; love others when it is inconvenient for you, love them selflessly, willingly giving up my free time to sit with someone when their world is falling apart, and sparing no cost to outfit them during their times of need.

Jesus said to His disciples in relation to one another, "This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life or his friends. You are My friends if you do what I command you." (John 15: 12-14) Jesus displayed this kind of deep love in His life and death. He lived to love and He died because of love, (He also rose again because of love, Hallelujah!)

I shared my story about the failed dessert because it was a really good reminder of the love I have for myself, which in turn reminded me of the sort of deep, compassionate, long suffering love I am commanded to have for others. It is not easy to love in the way Jesus does, but with Christ it is possible and it is beautiful!