When He gives you exactly what you ask for

In the midst of one of my favorite things it strikes:

In the midst of mixing and measuring, recipes and sweet gifts to be shared, the bloating of my belly and the swelling of my thighs and the transforming of my body with lies and obsessions that like to visit like old friends and then leave like thieves.

My soul groans.

Sunlight undulates into kitchen calm, dancing to the cleansing hum of the dishwasher, sweet singing from a Bethany Dillon album, and stillness.

All this rising of old thinking, all the rising due to such a silly thing: food bought and calories not counted and the unknowing, the loss of my coveted control in my intake.

All this so silly now written on a page. So silly, so small when put into phonemes, mashed into words and strung into sentences. I smile sad.

And in this I'm fed the nourishment I longed for.
In this uneasiness, this falling off the edge of a cliff anxiety amidst the comfort of rising pie, warming banana bread, and a shiny kitchen glow.
I close my eyes and recall the prayer prayed in morning hours when thoughts now become a lot to bear on my own.

Father, make me humble.
Father, show me how to love with all this soul, all this mind, all this strength.

But right now, I really need Your heart to do this. I need it.
But right now, I need such strength. You are all my strength.

My spirit gasps in realization. So this is what that great commandment in Deuteronomy means. So this is what I'd glossed over with dull eyes year after year of reading this verse.

And I begged You to know. Just on the brink of snapping angry, just before my flower wilts, just in the nick of time, You satisfy with a grace-filled, loving answer.

I remove a warm pan from the oven, refreshing it in the lovely kitchen air. Words echo from a Chris Tomlin song heard on the radio before, and now so loudly in my soul resonates:
"Lord I need you, Oh I need you,
Every hour I need you,
My one defense,
My righteousness,
Oh God, how I need you!"

Out of the heat, the pie becomes.

Out of my trial, with His refreshing, lovely truth, I become.

It's the only knowing I need.