This week's post is a two part Christmas story of how God taught me a lesson about comparing myself to others.
Remember to join my quarterly newsletter or blog list before December 31, 2015 for a chance to rename a character in my next novel (I'm at the halfway point).
I stepped into the shop; the green and red bells above the door jingled as I brushed the snow from my jacket sleeves. From across the room, the gleaming white curves and bits of decorative chrome called to me. The box-board sign attached said “Gently Used $40.00”. Only forty dollars for that beauty? Thank you Lord!
I remembered the first time I coveted the Kitchen Aid mixer. A bunch of home-school families gathered together to celebrate the Christmas season. The snack offerings ranged from exquisite, home-made, phyllo pastry sausage rolls to hand ground, organic wheat cinnamon buns. My soggy, mixed hors D’oeuvres taken from a yellow box - although fresh from the hostess’s six burner commercial oven - looked like a poor cousin in the amazing spread. If only I owned a Kitchen Aid Mixer, with an assortment of the twenty-one different attachments available, like the one nestled on the Italian marble countertenor. The culinary world would never be the same.
Growing kids, home renovations, car repairs etc. gobbled up the household funds and my general lack of talent in the baking department meant a top of the line mixer never became a priority. Until now. What did I have to lose? My voice quaked when I asked the woman behind the counter of the cupcake shop if the mixer was still for sale. She nodded and we closed the deal. Carrying my precious bundle home, I dreamt of recipe after recipe. Matt would be so thrilled.
A couple of days later, I went along with my friends Robin and Grace to buy groceries in the city for a local Bible College. We wandered through Costco’s crowded aisles and Robin stopped in front of the Kitchen Aid Mixer display. Her hand reached out and traced the smooth curves.
.... to be continued next Wednesday!