If e'er I had to pick a pie to make for Jesus, it would be the one I made tonight.
The crust is legendary. It comes out amazing every time. The filling was perfect for this summer evening. My mother-in-law, Tracey, and I had a pie making lesson from one of the sweetest women I know. I didn't really like crust until I had a Sue Anderson pie (cherry to be exact). Now I'm smitten with it, but only hers, even if someone else makes her recipe, it's still her crust. It's so flaky, but it's chewy too. Perfect, I tell you. Absolutely perfect.
Jesus would love that crust.
And I was needing some peaches in my life, so I looked up a vegan peach pie recipe, adapted it to what I had, and it happened to be a good one.
1 bag of frozen peaches, thawed (or mostly thawed. I was impatient)
1 t. lemon juice
1/3 c. flour
3/4 c. sugar (I LOVED how rich this pie was, but you could decrease the sugar and be just fine)
1/2 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. salt
Preheat oven to 350.
Place peaches in large bowl and toss with lemon juice.
Whisk flour, sugar, cinnamon, and salt in small bowl, then combine with peaches.
Add peach mixture to 9-inch pie plate with bottom crust prepared.
Place top crust over pie.
Crimp edges.
Vent the top crust (I chose a petal pattern).
Lightly brush top with soy milk (or other non-dairy milk of your choice)
Sprinkle with sugar.
Bake for 1 hour.
Let cool (or not).
Enjoy it with all your heart.
I'm sure Jesus would have preferred fresh peaches from a tree I grew and nurtured on my own. Hopefully in a few seasons, as Peepaw has offered us a little baby peach tree, I will be able to accommodate this.
And I really wish I could have some face time with the afore mentioned Savior. I don't want to go back in time, I want him here. I want to spend a late afternoon discussing everything that has been heavy (and light) on my heart. Back in his day, I wouldn't have had the foresight to see the influence of Christianity now. What would he think of it? This man who hung with
sinners. (You can read that all kinds of ways.) This man who challenged all to be the best they could be through thoughts and acts of kindness, compassion, and love. This man who rebuked pride. Who mended broken hearts, healed physical wounds, was present at miracles that give so many hope. I want to know how he so perfectly stood up for everyone, for people
holy men condemned. This man who was more than a man.
Christ of the Ozarks, Eureka Springs, AR
We'd sit on the edge of Lake Michigan at Promontory Point because I love it there. He would wonder what that "thing" was not so far off shore with me, even though I'm sure he knows the answer. We'd have an intellectual conversation about the world and about hope, with all of the things we need to have hope because of in-between. (Intellect, to me, is a balance of mind and heart.)
For as much as I wonder about heaven sometimes, I'm far more interested in earth at this point in my life. How can we become united while maintaining our differences? How can we love each other unconditionally despite our religious sect, our sexuality, our gender, the language we speak, the color of our skin? I want to see how sad we make him, and I also want to see the joy he feels because of us.
I just want to sit next to him and listen to what he thinks about what I believe, and the doubts I have. Hours and hours would go by. He'd listen while I cry, and I'd do the same. Just me and Jesus and a peach pie. No plates, just two forks. I'd offer him the last bite, but I know he wouldn't take it.
Outside of Thorncrown Chapel, Eureka Springs, AR