Walking out of the church Saturday after a women’s conference, I could only think of one thing: how I couldn’t wait to get home.
The laundry beat me this week. Three large mountains of clean clothes still await being conquered.
There are approximately 6,257 Lego pieces carpeting the living room floor. Their proper distribution in a thin circular layer six feet in diameter has been declared essential by three industrious boys.
Baby Lady has an assortment of bowls and measuring cups and spoons and she is “cooking” at the kitchen table.
Mr. Fantastic gives me the play-by-play of Boy 1’s baseball game. The words “major league play” are used to describe a particular catch he made.
I roll out pie crust. Roll, flip. Roll, roll, roll, flip. Each roll slowly pressing it flatter and rounder until it is the proper shape.
Pie crust is simple. It’s job is to compliment and hold the sweetness of its filling. A container for one of the thousands of varieties of pie in the world.
Finally, there it is, a beautiful, finished pie shell.
I look at an empty pie crust and see myself.
How many times have I been pressed out by God and awaited filling? It’s never been easy. It’s always been worth the trouble.
Today I am filled with gratitude. Gratitude for sunny weather, laundry, Legos, splashes of water, play-by-plays, and for the God who fills us so faithfully.
I am also filled with the knowledge that every day is not simple like today.
I know that harder days will come.
But today is lovely. So I roll out pie crust, kiss the ones I love, and relish the joy I feel.
My piece of the pie is sweet. I pass out pieces to the people I love most, thankful for good filling.
There is no place like home.
