The day I volunteered to pinch hit for the church cook
Recently, I volunteered to pinch hit for our church and cook the Wednesday night meal, after the scheduled volunteer had to bow out. I toiled over what to prepare: which entrée, how much, and the big question, from scratch or frozen? I compromised on the preparedness and went with frozen lasagnas, but when it came to dessert, my famous peach cobbler, no way was I scrimping there. After all, I was still on vacation, I had the entire day to prep, and my reputation as a baker, paltry though it may be, was on the line.
When Wednesday rolled around, I began just as I had planned. I was to prepare as much at home as possible and then make my way to the church in the early afternoon. Since cobbler is best when it’s hot, I knew I wanted to make it last, but decided to mix the dry ingredients at home, not certain that I would find all I needed in the church’s kitchen. However, just as I was measuring out the flour (counting ¼ cup scoops instead of pouring it into a single dry measure as I should have), the telephone rang. I stopped, mid-scoop, to silence the clamor, sure that I would remember where I left off in counting flour.
You’ve probably already guessed the end of this story, but I’ll share anyway, because there is a lesson here. I underestimated the length of the conversation that ensued, and when I returned to my mix, I couldn’t remember how many scoops “in” I was with the flour. I was so mad at myself! I mean, this cobbler was important. I was feeding a crowd of hungry people and dessert matters (yes, it was a double batch). I was mad that I had forgotten where I left off, I was mad at the phone for ringing, I was mad at the person who called me.
But then the Holy Spirit stepped in, and my anger gave way to repentance as I heard Him whisper, “The problem isn’t your memory or the phone call. The problem is that you traded the important for the urgent, and it cost you.” Oh! How many times am I guilty of this very thing?
Our worlds are full of sounds that zip and bing and ding and pop, all crying for attention, and mor often than not, we oblige them, only to realize that, while they may be urgent, they are rarely important, all the while pushing aside those things that matter, losing our place with them, sometimes ruining the whole batch. Oh my friends, we know what the important things are: time with the Lord, service to Him and His people, our marriages, our children, but are we jeopardizing those critical things in our lives because the sounds of the world are louder?
Oh Lord, help me to be wise in this area! Help me to say “no” to the urgent when it means sacrificing the important.
And my cobbler, how did it turn out? I don’t know. I’ll have to tell you tomorrow!
