Hi my name is Jessie, and I’m a stress baker.
It started innocently enough, with some Jiffy oatmeal muffins. Muffins progressed to my grandmother’s home-made brownies a couple days later. Then a genius little concoction called Magic Marshmallow Puffs (crescent rolls+marshmallows+cinnamon and sugar+butter=magic). The streak ended a few days later with Orange Poppy seed Bread (but let’s call it what it is—pound cake, emphasis on the pound).
It’s been about 4 days since I devoured the last slice (hunk) of bread (cake), but, there are three rotten bananas on our kitchen counter calling out to me. Ba-na-na-br-ea-d, they whisper.
Needless to say my Dad is thrilled. He is putting in requests. Blueberry coffee cake, next on the list. My mom is proving very self-controlled. Blueberry coffee cake may break her.
I must say I’ve enjoyed the baking…and the eating (possibly a little too much). My vow to start running again this week hasn’t exactly succeeded…I managed a few miles the other day, but contrary to the title of this blog, I would not have called it running well.
It’s funny how we cope with stress or fear or sadness or whatever raging sea is welling around us. Sometimes I think we respond by creating our own little storms. Whether it’s baking up a storm (guilty), cleaning up a storm, or even just dueling the thunder with our own booming snores.
The problem: raging sea not intimidated by banana bread. No matter how much I bake, the struggle, the crisis, the hardships that we’re promised in this life aren’t going anywhere.
The good news. God > banana bread.
Even better news. God > raging seas.
A passage in Psalm 77 struck me the other day, and it’s provided more comfort than all my goodies put together. A troubled psalmist cries out to God in pain and despair. Then he remembers the Lord’s mighty deeds, including the parting of the Red Sea .
“When the waters saw you, Oh God, when the waters saw you they were afraid. Indeed, the deep trembled.”
I can’t even imagine being Israelite in that moment. Churning waters ahead, clamoring chariots behind. Talk about a bad day. No amount of manna-cream-pies stood a chance against Pharaoh and I doubt they were even considering the Red Sea as a viable escape route.
Hence, panic. Outrage. Cries of "Why!?"
God, in a typical omniscient creator-of-the-universe sort of way, responds—“"Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on. Raise your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea to divide the water so that the Israelites can go through the sea on dry ground.” (Exodus 14:15-16)
Oh. Right. Of course.
Our God isn’t about avoiding trouble. He doesn’t take us on a path of least resistance. Yet he is certainly with us in the darkness. He's the flashlight.
The psalmist puts it well, “Your way was through the sea. Your path through the great waters, yet your footprints were unseen. You led your people like a flock, by the hand of Moses and Aaron.”
We all face some sort of Red Sea , some situation where Satan seems to be gaining ground, where sin threatens to enslave. No matter how great the waters or how furious the enemy, we can be sure of this; in the presence of God those waters writhe in fear, the enemy cowers, the deep trembles. Our God is mighty. He is all-powerful. Nothing is impossible for him.
This isn’t to say that baking is bad (I’m still planning on making banana bread), or that cleaning is a horrible stress outlet. Not so. Simply, in the face of trial, muffins make for a lousy shield and the Swiffer isn’t much of a sword.
One of my all-time favorite verses appears right in the middle of this trial. Moses says to the panicking Israelites, “Stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today...The Lord will fight for you. You need only to stand still" (Exodus 14:13-14).
The Lord is fighting for us. I will bake in celebration of that!
