I have always prayed about everything. Big things, small things—they all matter. I trust that God takes an interest in everything going on in my life. But even I didn’t know what to say when my teenaged son, Alan, announced late one night, clear out of the blue, that he was going to bake a lemon meringue pie.
Really?
“Alan, that’s ridiculous,” I said. “It’s bedtime. I just cleaned the kitchen and did the dishes. Besides, you have school tomorrow. If you want to bake a pie, bake it when you get home in the afternoon. We won’t be able to eat it until the meringue sets anyway. It makes no sense to make one now.”
“I know,” he said, cheerfully pulling a pan and a mixing bowl out of the cupboard in the kitchen. “I just have a strong urge to bake it tonight. I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t.”
I gave up. “There’s no understanding teenagers,” I muttered to God as I went upstairs to bed.
The next morning I picked up my friend Jenny and we drove over to the local nursing home. Once a week we sang together for a religious service there. Afterward we always had a nice lunch.
This week Jenny came to my house. We ate some ham-and-cheese sandwiches I had prepared, and when we were finished I went to the refrigerator for dessert. There was Alan’s pie, sitting on the top shelf, all ready to eat. I had to admit that it had turned out beautifully. The meringue looked perfect. At least it wouldn’t go to waste.
I hope Jenny’s in the mood for lemon meringue, I thought.
Jenny’s eyes went wide when I pulled the pie out and cut her a generous slice.
“How did you know?” she said.
“Know what?” I asked, sitting down with my own slice.
“Just this week I told the Lord I had a yen for lemon meringue pie…and here it is!”
As I told Alan later, it was the best lemon meringue pie either of us had ever tasted.
Probably because it was an answer to prayer.
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