I just finished a Chocolate Mousse Cheesecake… not eating one, making one, it’s cooling on my stove top right now…. ;>)
Ghirardelli Chocolate, too much Cream Cheese, heavy cream, sugar, Oreo cookie crust…. oh… heavenly.
I made one several weeks ago, and my son was filled with disbelief. He didn’t believe that I had actually made a cheesecake. Was it not masculine? He’s a hulking 15 yr old brute, closing in on 300 lbs of solid beef, and so manly things are very important right now. Never mind that men are actually capable of very complex thought and emotion, and can be very creative. Even bake. Somehow, in his 15 year old mind, all the fixings for cheesecake in my fridge and cupboard were just coincidental, and the appearance of a delectable cheesecake the next morning surely meant I had made a midnight run to the local grocery and purchased a fine cheesecake for the fun of it. Really now…
Today, as I prepared for the creation tonight, he just looked at me.
D-“You are really going to do this?”
Me- Why not, you don’t think I can?
D- “No, I really don’t. I’m still not sure you made the other one.”
Me- Why do you say that?
D- “I just can’t see you making cheesecake like THAT.”
Me- Then what is this spring pan for?
D- Blank stare, looking at the pan.”The chocolate smells good.”
Now, I wasn’t sure if I should be offended, or just accept the compliment. My response was “There are many things about me that would surprise you.” He rolled his eyes. But was hanging around the kitchen as cheesecake baked.
I saw Lana’s comment, which I appreciated greatly.
Lately, I’ve been too busy to blog. Or to sit with Jesus. Did I just say that? Yeah, I did.
And when I do that, rather don’t do that, I begin to slowly spin off center. Life gets out of focus, harried, and I am wondering what I am doing here, and now. And isn’t there someplace I’d rather be?
That’s when I usually come to the place where I realize that those whispers of regret, the aching void, those misplaced thoughts that I really dislike, are coming from a very specific little Troll. And so it’s time to take back ground, because I’ve not been myself lately.
This is why, for me, if I do not begin my day at the feet of Jesus, I will not survive. Or if I do, it won’t be pretty.
I am so unfinished, incomplete. I now understand just how lonely one can be, even though you are not alone. Most of us have these desert places to go through at times. I’m not whining, I’m really attempting to explain my absence here. I am not going to wallow, I’ve got to get moving. Make some hard changes.
These are places where we are tested, fail, are sharpened, retested, and created.
How often have we been molded into trial shapes, only to be pushed back down, kneaded, and then reformed?
So, be patient. Vessel in the making.
I hear my sons statement ringing in my ear. “No, I really don’t. I’m still not sure you made the other one.”
And then I realize that they are my words, perhaps put a little differently.
“God, I don’t think you can do this, and I’m not sure you really knew what you were doing before, either.”
OK, I repent. Time to sit and listen to what Jesus has to say tomorrow am. I think I already know what He’ll be talking about.
I smell cheesecake…