preface
Hi there :) If you're reading this now, it's because prayers were answered and God is good. There's a lot of excitement on this side of the screen that this is finally getting off the ground, but before we dive into the baking goodness that is life, take a walk with me back in time, just this once, so we can only move forward from there :)
It's almost finals week and I am not having it. The semester can only be described as discouraging, a leaky faucet that drains all my efforts and motivations so thoroughly that I can't even bring myself to put in a maintenance request. With studying unfinished (when is studying ever finished by the way) and the impending doom of the MCATs just two months away, I decided, only rationally of course, that it would be a good idea to bake. Some butter, eggs, and leftover pumpkin puree might not look so delicious in the mixing bowl, but stick it in the oven and you'll get a lovely loaf of pumpkin bread. Most of the time.
And now we wait. And maybe study. About an hour later, it smells like Thanksgiving and I'm ready with my oven mitt...only to pull out of the oven the ugliest brick of bread I've ever seen. First reaction: maybe it's not as bad as it looks. I mean it definitely doesn't look right but hey, can't be too picky. First bite: Nope. Someone must have stole my bread and replaced it with a block of play-doh.
Disappointment mingled with confusion settles on my heart as I try to cover this mess with aluminum foil to hide it from roommates and visitors. Shame. And you call yourself a baker, says a little voice in my head. I try to retrace my steps, see where I went wrong. Too much pumpkin? Not likely. Not enough flour? No, the batter consistency was right. Cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, baking soda......baking SODA?!! Not baking POWDER?? Oh my. I clearly cannot read. Or didn't think it would make such a huge difference. So that's why. I sigh. Never again.
This incident remained impressed on my mind long after the fact. How could switching out one ingredient, and such a small one at that, turn my fluffy bread into this dense mess? Is there something in my life, something deceiving insignificant, that makes me sink when I should be rising? This thought turned over and over in my mind, manifesting itself in the form of hard conversations and reluctant reflections, but weeks later, I discovered my answer at a continent-wide missions conference called Urbana.
I've always thought of myself as a Christian, a follower of Christ. I seemed to have all the ingredients, apt knowledge of the Bible, consistent service in church and fellowship, a repertoire of mission trips. And yet, what came out of the oven was still this strange, disfigured form, bearing no resemblance to the original design and designer, Jesus. I knew but I did not BELIEVE that my sins are forgiven. That grace is unconditional. That salvation is given and not earned. The core ingredient, the Gospel, was grievously overlooked, traded for earthly comforts and white-washed masks. And now, God's timer is going off and he looks and what does he see? This mess that is me. And there's nothing I can say. But see, that's what makes the Gospel true. If there was nothing to fix, God's grace and forgiveness would be unnecessary and we would be set for life. Baking soda, baking powder, what's the difference. But there is something to fix. Something that only He can fix. And until this truth takes root, there's no telling whether or not it's a beautiful loaf or sad brick that comes out of the oven.
And that's where this blog comes into the picture. A way of chronicling my trek back to the cross, while finding inspiration and joy in sharing something I enjoy. We've got a long way to go, but plenty of snacks and goodies to bring along :)
Thanks for taking the time to walk with me!
-M
A little extra something to go along with the first post (taken and edited by the lovely Miss A, check out her blog at twistedsimplicities.blogspot.com). Because there aren't pictures to go along with the actual recipe, I'll be saving that for a later post. Consider this a teaser ;)
It's almost finals week and I am not having it. The semester can only be described as discouraging, a leaky faucet that drains all my efforts and motivations so thoroughly that I can't even bring myself to put in a maintenance request. With studying unfinished (when is studying ever finished by the way) and the impending doom of the MCATs just two months away, I decided, only rationally of course, that it would be a good idea to bake. Some butter, eggs, and leftover pumpkin puree might not look so delicious in the mixing bowl, but stick it in the oven and you'll get a lovely loaf of pumpkin bread. Most of the time.
And now we wait. And maybe study. About an hour later, it smells like Thanksgiving and I'm ready with my oven mitt...only to pull out of the oven the ugliest brick of bread I've ever seen. First reaction: maybe it's not as bad as it looks. I mean it definitely doesn't look right but hey, can't be too picky. First bite: Nope. Someone must have stole my bread and replaced it with a block of play-doh.
Disappointment mingled with confusion settles on my heart as I try to cover this mess with aluminum foil to hide it from roommates and visitors. Shame. And you call yourself a baker, says a little voice in my head. I try to retrace my steps, see where I went wrong. Too much pumpkin? Not likely. Not enough flour? No, the batter consistency was right. Cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, baking soda......baking SODA?!! Not baking POWDER?? Oh my. I clearly cannot read. Or didn't think it would make such a huge difference. So that's why. I sigh. Never again.
This incident remained impressed on my mind long after the fact. How could switching out one ingredient, and such a small one at that, turn my fluffy bread into this dense mess? Is there something in my life, something deceiving insignificant, that makes me sink when I should be rising? This thought turned over and over in my mind, manifesting itself in the form of hard conversations and reluctant reflections, but weeks later, I discovered my answer at a continent-wide missions conference called Urbana.
I've always thought of myself as a Christian, a follower of Christ. I seemed to have all the ingredients, apt knowledge of the Bible, consistent service in church and fellowship, a repertoire of mission trips. And yet, what came out of the oven was still this strange, disfigured form, bearing no resemblance to the original design and designer, Jesus. I knew but I did not BELIEVE that my sins are forgiven. That grace is unconditional. That salvation is given and not earned. The core ingredient, the Gospel, was grievously overlooked, traded for earthly comforts and white-washed masks. And now, God's timer is going off and he looks and what does he see? This mess that is me. And there's nothing I can say. But see, that's what makes the Gospel true. If there was nothing to fix, God's grace and forgiveness would be unnecessary and we would be set for life. Baking soda, baking powder, what's the difference. But there is something to fix. Something that only He can fix. And until this truth takes root, there's no telling whether or not it's a beautiful loaf or sad brick that comes out of the oven.
And that's where this blog comes into the picture. A way of chronicling my trek back to the cross, while finding inspiration and joy in sharing something I enjoy. We've got a long way to go, but plenty of snacks and goodies to bring along :)
Thanks for taking the time to walk with me!
-M
A little extra something to go along with the first post (taken and edited by the lovely Miss A, check out her blog at twistedsimplicities.blogspot.com). Because there aren't pictures to go along with the actual recipe, I'll be saving that for a later post. Consider this a teaser ;)
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