I have never considered myself as a person who is prideful. I come from humble beginnings. My parents struggled to keep ahead of the bills. I am grateful for the childhood I had and the training ground it provided. I had to learn a lot of skills in order to make do. Sewing, cooking, and canning to name a few. I know I am crafty and creative, but not many of my skills are exceptional. I am always game to try. Often what I create is a fresh take on another’s idea, hopefully putting to use supplies on hand.
Where I do shine is in making pies. I have baked pies since I was a nine year old when I received my first cookbook. It would take me all day to make an apple pie and create a lattice top crust. It took my family only five minutes to polish it off, but I learned well how to get it right. I always make my crusts from scratch using unsalted butter. Our property had blackberries, raspberries and blueberries growing in abundance every summer. Pies aplenty, usually topped off with homemade whipped cream. I thought everyone grew up with berries growing in every corner of their backyard and everyone baked pies at every opportunity. We were richer than we knew!
In recent years I have brought pies to many events, created delicate pie pops on lollipop sticks for fancy teas and substituted pies for certain friends’ birthdays instead of cake. It is one of my secret thrills to see people enjoying a slice of one of my pies. They may not always be picture perfect, but they are tasty.
Once I even brought a pie to court. After serving on a jury for a week, I brought a pie the final day to celebrate the conclusion of the case. When I entered the courthouse that morning, my pie could not be scanned at security because it was in a ceramic plate. The pie and I were escorted to the jurors’ room by a guard, just in case there were any weapons baked into it. This is how far I will go to share my talent.
Sometime ago I entered two pies into a competition in Philadelphia at a street fair my daughter's church was having. I made Swedish apple pie and a peach pie, two of each were required for all who would be tasting the pies. My peach pie was decorated with star cutouts in the top crust. Cleverly, I entered it with the name "Not-So-Humble” Peach Pie. I think I should have won a prize just for the achievement of transporting four pies through the streets of Center City. People came through the line and each got a teaspoon size taste of the pies and then voted for their favorite. It turned out a young guy, a newbie to baking pies, was voted the winner. I was a little disappointed.
I caught myself inventing reasons why this mere novice won. He must have been popular at the church. After all, how much skill could he really have? People had too many pies to judge. None of them came with real food credentials. Did I voice any of these thoughts? No. But they were there, soothing my injured feelings.
I recognize now that this was a pride issue. I was feeding myself messages that were rationalizations for why I didn't win. I wonder how often I cherish thoughts that are likely not true and feed attitudes of self-importance.
I'd been thinking about this topic in the last few weeks because I do feel pride is one of those idols that most of us struggle with in some way. Then at the funeral for my sweet, retired missionary aunt, I encountered a real battle with pride and jealousy. Another family member was asked to speak at the service. Why was I not asked? I judged myself to be closer to my aunt and more able to honor her memory. I am embarrassed to admit that I was so self-absorbed. Why did I make any comparisons and judgments in the first place?
The week after the funeral, our Bible study lesson was about Saul's jealousy of David. As David’s accomplishments grew, King Saul became agitated to the point of trying to kill David. The lesson clearly addressed the issue I was struggling with. One of the final verses we were directed to was Isaiah 26:10 which serves as a reminder to regard the majesty of the Lord. That’s exactly the truth I needed. My attention should be daily on the MAJESTY of God. All else pales. I need to do this often, spending time in His presence, reflecting on all He is and how He is actively at work in my life. When I do this, I find that my spirit is joyful and freed from the poison of pride.
The lessons from my “Not-So-Humble” pie are simple. I can share a talent, but not find my identity in it or allow it to fuel my pride. I can also just be thankful to use that gift in grateful service to the Lord, the giver of all our skills. The most significant lesson for me is how near God feels when He walks us through our struggles.
Psalm 34:8 tells us, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” He is good when He loves us. He is good when He refines us due to our weakness and sin. Savor being in the presence of God. Recognize the amazing truth that we get to see and experience the goodness and nearness of the Majestic One.
ABOUT OUR BLOGGER
Linnea Tideman has always enjoyed sharing stories. Her childhood in New Hampshire and her Swedish heritage have provided her with a wealth of experiences, but also the foundation of her faith.
She enjoys creative projects, travel, books, sewing, gardening, but most of all hospitality, often hosting fancy teas and occasionally something grand like recreating dinner on the Titanic.
She serves the UrbanPromise and Good Neighbors ministries. Linnea lives in Landenberg with her husband Dave. They have three grown daughters. She hopes that her writing reflects how God continues to reveal Himself to us as our shepherd and Savior.