Just yesterday, my mom mentioned that she and dad had been making pies. Knowing how sick my dad is, I got to thinking about a post I wrote almost four years ago.
Reading over those words, the gravity of his kindness seeps in before settling deep in my heart. These “baked offerings” from the hand of this incredible man are more precious than I realized then, and more precious yet than I realize now.
Drawn from my archives, October, 2007…
When I got to my parents place, it was a nice feeling to see that they both had my blog up on their computer screens.
It’s odd at times to see two seniors–who avoided ‘new fangled’ banks cards until recently–sitting in front of a PC. Make that ‘each their own PC’! When did they master the calculator and move on to a PC? They’re growing up too fast, before I know it, they’ll be moving out in search of a care home. Seems like just yesterday they were changing my diapers…
I wanted a pie. It’s been too long since I had a coconut cream pie. This reality was triggered by a question that my children asked me on Friday morning. “Mom, what’s your favorite pie?” Maddy asked.
“Is it berry pie?” Nathaniel wanted to know. “Do you like raisen pie, Mom?”
“No, I don’t like raisen pie,” I shivered thinking about the sugar that oozed from that pie. I was just about to answer ‘blueberry pie’, but then I remembered my ultimate favorites, which are Lemon Merangue and Coconut Cream. “I love coconut cream,” I answered, as a plan started to emerge in my brain…
So there I was, standing in my parents livingroom still trying to figure out how this plan to get a pie was going to unfold. I decided to start with mom, but after she explained to me that Dad is the one who makes all the pies, I took it up with him. “Dad, you haven’t made pies for a long time, and I’m dying for a coconut cream pie.”
“That’s right it’s been a while,” he said, trying to figure out why my sidebar wasn’t showing up on his computer screen.
He was close, but not committed, so I figured it was time to pull out the sympathy card, “I bet Bonnie would love a pie,” I said. Lucky for me, Bonnie’s back was so bad she couldn’t even get out of bed. It wasn’t so lucky for her–unless she had a hankerin’ for pie too–then it was lucky for both of us.
After Dad got Blogger to load my page, we went back into the livingroom to sit with Mom where they argued about whether real whipped cream or artificial whipped cream would be best for the pies. I sat around adding my two cents, sipping a diet Coke, and rubbing the belly of a pup whose leg shook in the air.
“The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll get your pie,” Dad said. I left. At 6pm, the doorbell rang, and Dad was standing outside with a fresh coconut cream pie topped with real whipped cream. He didn’t have time to stay because he had another pie waiting in the drivers seat to be delivered to Bonnie’s kitchen.
When I sit down to write, I usually start with a single thought, and sometime the tapping of my fingers on the keys make a story come to life, while other times they don’t. I’m never quite sure what that story will be.
This week I discovered that my thoughts were on “grace.” While writing this story about Dad, the first verse that came to mind was “by love serve one another.” I had no idea what context that verse was in, but after looking it up, I have no doubt that it was placed in my heart for a reason, and that reason is to open my eyes to pure grace in action.
Use your freedom to serve one
another in love; that’s how freedom
grows. For everything we know about
God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence:
Love others as you love yourself.
That’s an act of true freedom.
~ Galatians 5:14, The Message
I love it when a blog comes together. Thanks for the pie Dad, and thanks for your service of love!
You are loved by an almighty God,
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