Hearts of Sugar

I'm a summer intern yo! And a part of the power team. My fellow intern and I named ourselves that, though to be fair I'd pretty sure it was my idea - I'm all about team names and motivation!

Part of my role at the non-profit I'm working for has to do with cooking meals. Let me tell you something - I'm a pretty good cook. Nothing incredible, but I can get a meal on a table and I find joy in it. I'm not scared to try making new things and I've got good understanding of the basics. Do you smell pride? No? Yeah, neither did I until suddenly I did.

And apparently so did God. After my two posts the other day about how great things were with God mid-day and then how crap to the p things were that night and after one of the most vicious prayers of my life, God felt it necessary to do some more work.

When I say one of the most vicious prayers of my life, I mean that I was honest with Jesus. It's rare that I get to the hair pulling, tears raging, heart pounding, hitting the wall in anger point of prayer. Last night, after writing the blog about comfort, I allowed myself to leave that comfort. Not in a sinful way, but in a broken and hurt and honest way. I laid things out with Him. I kind of felt like I was wrestling with God but not for control. I needed Him to take control of the issues
I woke up refreshed and ready to walk forward without the issues I'd been letting drag me down.

Please read at least a little bit of humility in this (referring back to my statement about smelling pride). Sin can't stay hidden. Hidden sin grows and blossoms. Sin should never be blossoming. It should be trampled and ripped out for the weed it is. Exposed sin may still occur, but it won't occur silently anymore. People need to know - not in a "LOOK AT HOW MUCH I SIN" way that attracts attention to our issues, but in a "I sin and need Jesus to help me live out grace" way that points people to Jesus.

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Anyways, like my post the other morning mentioned, God doesn't see fit for my growing season to be done. Growing should translate to being chopped down daily by grace - and in the most beautiful way.

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So the other morning I worked. I got to work at 9 and started preparing breakfast for the people I needed to. I kept it basic - bacon and eggs. Is there anyone capable of ruining those things? Hm . . . apparently a girl needing to deal with her pride and fear issues.
The bacon - I put those meaty particles in the oven, which on any other day would have been the best idea. Put the oven to 350 and keep the bacon in for about 20 minutes. The bacon should taste delicious. Any other day. Any.

The eggs- I cracked the eggs, I whisked them together, I put them on the stove in the skillet. I cooked them, all was well. I added some peppers. All was well. I added some meat, and even still, all was well. All of it - it was well. I decided, hm, this needs some flavour and opened the cupboards. I'm not too familiar with where things are quite yet so I decided to just use the seasoning salt since it was the closest spice to me.

Picture this.

Seasoning salt held over eggs, a light shake where very little comes out. Hm, I should probably add some more. A bigger shake and BAM!!!!!!!!!!!, the cover comes falling off and the entire container of seasoning salt falls into the skillet.

I laugh (and died a little bit inside).

Because that's what I do. It's a daily choice where I choose laughter over tears. Sometimes I fail at that, or sometimes I choose anger, but for the most part, God's been working on softening my heart to a point of much laughter.

I start taking the seasoning salt off. The top pile comes off, but I realize quickly that this seasoning has quickly made itself quite comfortable and well acquainted with the dish. Thanks for that seasoning salt. Thanks a lot.

I don't panic, but I want to.

Mostly because I'm frustrated that breakfast is ruined.

And even more mostly because I just started this job and really really really really want them to like me. (Did you just smell some fear of man? Oh yeah, God's working on that too - don't worry)

I could write the details of what all occurred next, but let's just cut to the chase.

We ate bagels.

Because while I was dealing with the disaster, the bacon became overcooked.

It was a great morning.

I went for a little walk after breakfast in order to grab a coffee and to ask Jesus why it had to happen.

Nadine, you wanted them to love you based off of a dish. That's not why I love you, and that's not where you find your purpose. You find your purpose in your love for Me. My love for you is enough.

Live out your love for me. Bake and cook and clean to My glory, not yours.

Okay fine.

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Just so you know, I just spent that evening making a very very very very delicious batch of chocolate chip cookies. 

I even used my new heart shaped measuring cups. Because when I bake, I bake not only from the heart, but with the heart(s).

These cookies were an act of joy - not an act to gain joy.




I'm doomed for disaster until grace overtakes me.