I cut the butter through the salted flour with my fingers.
I wash them off, then take a fork and, holding bowl beneath icy spring water trickling from the faucet, I mix the pastry till just moist enough.
I shape the rounds of dough and flour the mat, then carefully roll with that well-beloved French rolling pin Husband fashioned in his winter woodshop, using lovely cherry wood from right here on the property. I push just enough here, a little more gently there, to master the challenging circle.
Almost, but not quite. I trim all ’round the sort-of circle till it really is one, and think of my mother rolling dough on her generous, smooth wooden board, perfect circle every time.
I assemble the pies: the pumpkin whirred in the blender, the apples with the crumb top, or sometimes with the dough “lid” (as husband calls the top crust. (He once made a pumpkin pie himself–mistakenly “with a lid”!)
One by one they enter the oven, to fill the whole house with delightful aroma. I will set these before the gathered loved ones for one purpose.
Though there’s nourishment and sustenance in the portions slid onto dressy plates, my aim is their enjoyment. I might even say, “Enjoy!” And whether the pie assembly has been easy or fraught with “little kitchen difficulties,” when I see them digging in with gusto and smiles, I relish their pleasure. I so enjoy their enjoyment!
And now I reflect not only on my mother with her big mother-heart set on our enjoyment when she did these same acts of love, but of God and all that He takes thought to orchestrate and assemble, not just to keep us breathing, but with the same intention: for us to take pleasure in it, and for Him to enjoy our enjoyment.
Listen through the coming week. Can your spirit hear His Spirit’s invitation, saying, “Enjoy. Enjoy!” and be grateful?
This post was inspired by a the word prompt “enjoy,” on this week’s Five Minute Friday. Visit there to enoy more bloggers’ responses to the prompt.