What’s my favorite kind of pie? Not rhubarb. Anything BUT rhubarb. That’s my favorite.
Did you know that the first record of a fruit pie was a cherry pie served to Queen Elizabeth I in the 16th century?
Up until then, pies were savory and filled with meat. (I have an almost famous chicken pot pie recipe of my very own.)
Speaking of queens, my mother-in-love used to be the pie queen. Our holidays saw 2 chocolate pies and the richest ever coconut cream. And perhaps a lemon meringue.
Her ordinary days called for lemon ice box pie or perhaps a quick cherry o’ cream.
As I recall, she loved to eat pecan pie, but wasn’t a fan of baking one of her own.
She even once asked for my recipe for sweet potato pie. What an honor to be asked by the queen!
Yes, here in the south we love our pies and we make them to be shared. You get a piece. I get a piece. Everyone gets a piece of pie.
Unless of course you’re part of a family larger than the average pie. Then someone ain’t getting a piece. And that’s why cookies were created! (That is not historically accurate.)
The thing is, I grew up believing I was always gonna end up with a cookie. That there would never be enough pie to go around. Not enough. Not enough for me.
I was always looking at everyone else’s plates, longing for their pie. That’s the principle of scarcity at its best: if ‘they’ get some, or too much, it will leave nothing for me. There’s only so much pie, money, resources, praise and success to go around. You get the ugly picture.
It’s not that I wanted what others had and wanted them to have nothing in return. But, I did want some, too. And that didn’t seem so bad.
But that constant feeling that I was missing out wired my brain to see most everything through that lens of scarcity. And that was not good. Nothing was ever enough. Especially not me.
I needed a new perspective. A new way of seeing life. And myself.
I am not enough.
That is the truth I had to embrace. A confession I had to make. The reality in which I’m learning to walk. Most days.
The only good thing about me is the Jesus in me. That means I submit all things to Him. My feelings, my thoughts, my desires. My gifts and my talent. The more I surrender, the greater He becomes. He will only multiply what I’m willing to surrender.
I had to stop looking for material things, titles, and acknowledgements of others to fill me up. And realize that God Himself in the Person of the Holy Spirit is enough to sustain me. Not simply sustain me, but fill me up to overflowing.
It was then that I realized my plate wasn’t sparse or nearly empty. I had no room for anything else! My plate, my cup…runneth over.
“Lord, you are my portionPALM 16:5-6
and my cup of blessing;
you hold my future.
6 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
Yes. I love pie on my plate and coffee in my cup, but if I have neither, my God is enough.
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