Cursing at Pie Crust and Other Things I Don’t Want You to Know I Do.

First of all let me apologize to my church ‘Aunties’. Well, and probably my mother too, but she’s used to me by now.

Every time I make an apple pie with homemade crust I think I should be given an award for the ugliest-best-tasting pie! I have never gotten the knack for rolling pie plate shaped crusts that don’t fall apart on transfer from cutting board to pie plate. (I have since learned they need to go in the fridge for five to ten minutes.)

So the other day as I was transferring the latest ugly crust to the pie plate and it fell into a million pieces in the space between the cutting board and the pie plate I said a word you definitely can’t say from the platform at church. Well you could but… ya, no.

I thought what would your church Aunties think about that? Well after they got over their shock they would probably say nice mouth DenaRae and love me anyways. Not that they would condone the language. Neither do I to tell you the truth, but hopefully they’d go home and pray that I’d stop cussing because honestly I’m trying to. But it is a habit a long time in the making.

I remember one occasion when I still had my driver’s permit and someone cut me off in traffic. I let loose with a hand gesture and a string of four letter words…and then I remembered my mom was in the car. “DenaRae young ladies don’t act like that and they don’t talk like that!” was all she said. It’s probably a good thing my dad wasn’t in the car.

What’s my point why am I telling you all this? There are days I am so frustrated with where I am in the process of my life. I’m not just talking about cursing at the pie crust either. There are many facets of my life where I can see where I want to be, yet I feel as if I am perpetually stuck on level 33 in Candy Crush not able to clear the required jellies to get to the next level. Somehow I don’t think I am alone.

So today I choose to trust His process of who I am becoming. The woman He designed me to be.