Showing posts with label mistakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mistakes. Show all posts

The Lemon Meringue Pie "Surprise" (25 Years Later)



I’ll surprise him with a lemon meringue pie!

I’m 21 years old.  

Been married 3 ½ months.  

I’ve been trying to think of something unexpected I can do for Daniel’s birthday, which is just 4 days after Christmas. 

All his life, he’s received 2-in-1 “Merry Birthday” gifts, while I’ve always enjoyed a middle-of-the-year birthday celebrated all on its own. (Clearly, I’ve not yet started teaching and had my birthday buried under end-of-year grading!)

I’ll surprise him with a lemon meringue pie!


Making the Pie

I have ninja pie crust making skills. 

Not bragging, just truth-telling. 

An amazing cooking class instructor taught me how to make the most delicate, flakey, beautiful pie crust the world has seen.  Every time.

I’ve never tried making lemon filling or meringue. But how hard can they possibly be?  My trusty red Betty Crocker cookbook is open. I am fearless!

I put together all the ingredients for the lemon filling and notice one minor item I’m missing:  

a candy thermometer. 

I’m supposed to bring the filling to a certain temperature and then cook it for a specific amount of time at that temperature.

Instead, I bring it to a rolling boil, stirring constantly. 

For 30 minutes.

And oh, is it beautiful: yellow, clear, and glossy.

I pour the lemon mixture into the waiting perfect pie crust–mmmm, smells heavenly!–and bake as directed.

I whip up the egg whites with sugar, cool the pie, add the meringue, and brown it.

The finished pie is a work of art.

And I’m giddy with excitement over the surprise I've cooked up for Daniel.


Serving the Pie

Sure enough, he looks stunned and then thrilled when I present The Pie to him.

“You made this for me?” he exclaims.

I hand him a large knife. He calculates the perfect point to start cutting and stabs the knife into the center of the pie.

But as he lifts the knife, the entire pie comes out of the pie plate with it!

He gingerly settles the pie back down into the pie plate and pulls up on the knife again.

The knife is still stuck in the pie.

He wiggles the knife back and forth.

Still stuck.

Soon, it becomes clear that the pie–for all its beauty–is beyond all hope. The lemon mixture is the consistency of hard candy. How the knife ever went in, we will never understand. 

But clearly, it is never coming out.  


Salvaging the Knife

Daniel’s practical mind shifts from the pie to the knife, one of the expensive ones we received as a wedding gift.

He heads out to the garage, and I hear the banging of my rock-like pie being hammered against the side of our metal trash can.

Daniel eventually comes inside and reports that the trash can was badly dented in the process of freeing the knife.

I do what any rational bride of 3 ½ months would do: 

burst into tears.

“I just wanted to surprise you for your birthday!” I wail.

Trying to cheer me up, Daniel holds out the knife and jokes, “Well, this certainly is a surprise!”

I cry even harder.


A Marriage Metaphor

The “Lemon Meringue Pie Fiasco” has turned out to be an apt metaphor for our marriage. 

We married young, stubborn, and foolish.

In the early years, we each tried so hard to do things to make the other happy.

But we frequently messed up.

And then our best attempts to clean up the mess caused a lot of collateral damage.

I took everything so seriously back then. Perfectionism insisted that the mistakes I made “meant something” about me, about our marriage. 

I shed a lot of unnecessary tears.


Reflecting Back 25 Years

In our quarter-of-a-century of marriage, I’ve learned...

...not to try so hard. Daniel would far rather have an ordinary gift given by a relaxed wife than an amazing gift delivered by a stress-case!

...mistakes don’t have to “mean anything.”  About me.  About my marriage.  They mean I’m human. Perfectionism used to convince me that I needed to hide that fact at all cost. 2 Corinthians 12:9a reminds me that God’s “grace is sufficient for [me]” and that His “power is made perfect in weakness." 

...love covers over a multitude of sins.” (1 Peter 4:8b)  So does laughter.

(And I’ve definitely learned how hard lemon pie filling can possibly be!)



Your Turn

  • What kitchen disaster has become a legend in your family?
  • How do you handle mistakes?
  • Anything else on your heart!





Coming in January!

How I Lost and Found My Hope Today


During November and December, I'll be diving into a personal Bible study of hope. I'll be sharing what I learn here, in a series called "Hope for the Holidays and Everydays."

Each week, I'll be giving away a book. This week's title is 21 Ways to Connect With Your Kids by Kathi Lipp, with personality assessment and applications contributed by yours truly! 


Oh, and if you haven't already "Liked" Kathi on Facebook, I think you'll actually LOVE her!

Enter via the Rafflecopter at the end of the blog post or click to enter here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I hate making mistakes.

My irritation with mistakes goes far beyond the rules of Perfectionism that I’m learning to break.

It’s a hard-wired PURSE-onality thing.

As a Driver / Choleric, I hate how inefficient mistakes make me. Doing things once is bad enough. Twice or thrice? 

The end. of. the. world.

As an Expressive / Sanguine, I live in fear and loathing of all things detailed. To me, details are cleverly-disguised traps to catch me messing things up. 

To spoil my joy.

To absorb every moment of my life so that I have no time for fun.


My Mistakes Today

It’s not even 10:00 AM, and today is already “one of those days.”

I’m late starting my 4th period class because I can’t find the quizzes I know I’ve copied. I search and search to no avail. 

Leaving my students to snicker at my incompetence, I march back to the copy room to make new copies...only to find my quizzes sitting in the copier tray. I copied the quizzes,  but neglected to take them with me.

Oh brother.

Back in class, I’m on edge. Kicking myself for not getting to school 10 minutes earlier and preventing this mistake. But I can’t turn back time, so I try to salvage it.

No use.

The harder I try, the worse things get.

I mis-spell a word on the white board, which my students are quick to point out because they know the first one to do so gets a bonus point.

Only today, I wish I’d never made that rule. I don’t want my mistakes pointed out to me. I’m sick of them, and it’s not even 10:00 AM!

I try to have a sense of humor about it.

I fail.

I see my students giving each other “She’s in one of those moods” glances. They become extra polite and quiet.

I feel even worse. They shouldn’t be taking care of me; I’m supposed to be taking care of them.

During staff meeting, I multitask, frantically trying to catch up on recording scores. My online gradebook is more than a week behind because I’ve been sick, and I’m just waiting for my boss and my students’ parents to start complaining.

I get all caught up...and then realize I’ve entered all the scores one column off. And the only way to correct them is to delete every column and start over. 

Everything I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes doing was a complete waste of time.

I don’t even try to have a sense of humor about it. I’m irritated beyond words with myself.

And desperately looking for someone other than myself to blame for my mistakes.


Others' Mistakes Today

Daniel comes home and asks me about my day. I’ve barely started to reply when he cuts me off mid-word and hijacks the conversation in an entirely different direction.

I hate being interrupted.

Today of all days.

He doesn’t even notice that I’ve gone silent. 

I say nothing, because interruptions don’t bother him. And I am not in the mood for a “why are you so sensitive” lecture.

So I brood silently.

Until I get an e-mail telling me that my latest attempt to get the paperwork for my husband’s certification renewal finalized has failed. 

Again.

I ordered two transcripts on October 22 -- one sent to us and one sent to the office of education -- and ours arrived October 24.

So I assumed the other one did, too.

Silly me: to think this paperwork nightmare could possibly be over after four months of battling with phone calls, e-mails, scans, and faxes.

I’ve. had. it.

This, is too much!

More than I should have to bear!

It’s. not. fair!

I throw myself a particularly pathetic pity party. 


I Lost Hope in My PURSE-onality Weaknesses

Later, as I come back to my senses and triage my no good, very bad day, I notice a cause-and-effect pattern I’ve not seen before. 

Step 1: I became frustrated with myself over one of my major PURSE-onality weaknesses:  making mistakes when dealing with details.

But this wasn’t enough to cause me to bail. I persevered. I held out hope, for myself and for my day.

Step 2:  Someone else made a mistake that inconvenienced me. 

And BOOM, I “lost it.”

Abandoned all hope.

Dove to the depths of discouragement and despair.

Almost as if I’d been just waiting for someone else to mess up to justify my break-down.

(Almost…)


Downcast and Disturbed

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
Psalm 42:5

I am downcast and disturbed because I hate my weaknesses.

I wish they would go away and leave me alone.

And then I could…

oh, I dunno…
  • ...be completely self-sufficient? 
  • ...enjoy a mistake-free life?
  • ...need no one but my self?
  • ...be my own “god”?


Lost and Found

My first mistake today wasn’t losing the quizzes.

My first mistake today was misplacing my hope. 

My reactions throughout the day make it painfully obvious that -- once again! -- I placed my hope in myself.

Which means I’d placed all sorts of expectations on myself.

Which is another way of saying I’d set myself up for (you can guess what’s coming next!) disappointment.

Oh yeah. 

Almost as if I’ve been here before.

(Almost…)


So tonight, I ask:
  • Why am I downcast about my mistakes?
  • Why so disturbed about details?

And I am reminded
  • to put my hope in God, not myself; 
  • to praise Him instead of piling expectations on myself;
  • that He alone -- not my quizzes or my students or my grades or my husband or my paperwork -- is my Savior and my God.


Your Turn:
  • Do you recognize the two-step pattern of (a) becoming frustrated with your own weakness and then (b) blowing up when someone else inconveniences you with the same weakness?
  • Which of your own weaknesses do you find causes you to lose hope the fastest?
  • Which weakness in others causes you to “lose it”?
  • Anything else on your heart!


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