I love to bake. I think it’s my sweet-tooth-creative outlet that I inherited from growing up in the chocolate business. It makes me happy to not only eat, but share the yummy goodness with others. I have a chocolate chip cookie recipe that we affectionately call “crack cookies” in my home. (The first batch is free . . . you’ll come back for more.)
My kids have started to pick up a passion for baking, too, and I enjoy teaching them . . . most of the time. Sometimes, adding in the extra “joy” of kids takes away some of my relaxation and let’s say, focus, as I bake. One time I used cookie baking as a distraction for Gabby, Claire, and my nephew as we were getting ready for Thanksgiving, and instead, they successfully distracted me. I doubled the recipe for more people to enjoy, but miscalculated the flour amount, and only added enough for a single batch. We enjoyed crack pancakes that day.
I came across a verse yesterday in my morning Bible reading that jumped out at me. I couldn’t shake it all day. It’s found in Ps. 33.22 (AMP).
“Let your mercy and loving-kindness, O Lord, be upon us, in proportion to our waiting and hoping for you.”
Uh oh. Did that say “in proportion to our waiting and hoping . . .?” Uh oh.
When it comes down to it, I’m not a very good waiter. We’ve been discussing the art of “prayerful listening” in my LifeGroup as we read Discerning the Voice of God: How to Recognize When He Speaks, by Priscilla Shirer. We were sharing challenges to prayerful listening and waiting last week, such as my big obstacle to get out of a prostrate position under my warm covers to “pray.” (You’re never going to believe this, but I usually fall back asleep.) I hoped that by sharing some of my challenges with the rest of the group, maybe it would help me be accountable to change.
So, I guess God wanted to get my attention another way, and He chose baking to do it. (He really gets me.) Just like proportions in baking are essential to creating an exquisite dessert, proportions are essential to thriving, not just surviving, the day. When I want more cookies to share, I double the recipe. I double ALL the recipe or it won’t work.
When I take time each day to wait and listen and place my hope on my Father, it’s like He gives me a bigger bowl for the day. He increases my capacity to take a greater proportion of His mercy, kindness and His love, which many people, most-especially my kids and husband, would greatly appreciate, maybe even more than crack cookies.
So, I made it out of bed this morning. I actually walked downstairs before anyone woke up and got to spend some time listening and writing. It was sweet. Delicious. And the perfect set-up to a crack cookie kind of day.