Hands down, no comparison, without dispute – my mother makes the best pumpkin bread in the world. You can search from one corner to the other, across every land, talk to every person but you could simplify your “best pumpkin bread award search” by visiting Mrs. Johnson in Salt Lake City, Utah. I recognize I might be biased, and perhaps that is so, but from countless friends whom I grudgingly gave a taste, the vote remains the same. Perhaps it is the semi-sweet chocolate chips she tosses in, or maybe the perfect little loaf pans she uses to bake them in, but my opinion is the fantastic flavor is due to her secret ingredient … love. This past week I received a box with six of these little love loafs inside to my great delight and while I sat gorging myself, Jesus taught me a lesson.
Coming in at 3 inches wide, 5 inches long, and almost 2 inches high, these tremendous treats are nearly a meal by themselves. As is custom, I put a couple in the freezer (to eat in a few days), a couple in the fridge (to eat in the not-to-distant future), and usually one on the counter … to eat now. I usually eat my pumpkin bread after dinner as dessert and if I don’t immediately cut the loaf in half and put it away, I find that, before I know it, the entire loaf is consumed – which is not necessarily a problem except it leaves me feeling a bit sick. As hard as I try I can hardly contain myself when a loaf is sitting nearby.
In the last three days, I have averaged a loaf a night. I can’t help it. I am addicted . . . though obsessed might be a better word. I’ll be better once all the loaves are eaten and none are available. Until then, I can’t stay away. I think about my delectable dessert all day until that evening when I’m so stuffed I moan out of agony of getting what I wanted. I could enjoy it longer if I would cut it in half and save some for tomorrow, but the knife keeps cutting and my mouth continues eating. I have but a few left – utter sadness and yet needed relief.
So what was the great lesson I learned from my mother’s formidable food? What if my obsession and addiction with Jesus was akin to that of my love for pumpkin bread? What if all I could think about was Him? He was what I pondered all day, what I obsessed over? When I partake of Him I can’t help but want more. One taste of His presence and I’ve lost all control. Is that you?
One grand thing about Jesus is if you feast all day upon Him, you will never be stuffed, sick, or stricken. Why wouldn’t you go after Him with all that you are? Why won’t you go ALL IN? Why do you hold back? Quit “cutting the loaf in half” in hopes to save it for later – partake ALL of Him today … there will be far more tomorrow.
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