A Theology of Cherry Pie

Robbie and I went sour cherry picking on Monday, and last night I turned unappetizingly sour fruits into the most delicious pie filling. You would never want to sit down with a bowl full of sour cherries. They are so sour and tart. Even the most perfect-looking sour cherry is not tempting when you know what's on the inside.

But I took out their hard little hearts, those stony pits, and I washed them clean of the dust that clung to them. I added sugar to them, and after a little while on the stove, they were starting to smell pretty good. I added a cornstarch slurry, which isn't there because it tastes good but because without it, the cherries would just be a runny mess. A little cinnamon, a little almond extract, and these sour cherries are ready to be baked in a delicious, sweet pie.

I can't take much credit--God made the cherry and the sugar cane and the water I used for rinsing and the elements I used for cooking and the taste buds I use for tasting and the mind I used to follow the recipe. I can't make a cherry pie without his enabling. He is a creative, diverse, ordered, good God.

But what's even better is that God is doing to me what I did to the cherries.