a mushy mess

So, I've decided it's perfectly acceptable to bake cookies at 9am, as long as oatmeal is incorporated (never mind the dark and white chocolate chunks added for the appropriate sugar rush affect). I won't even mention how I justified making puppy chow at 8am last week (but it's not so bad when you realize I'd been up since 4 thanks to a toddler rebelling against time zone differences.) Back to the chewy, gooey, oatmeal, chocolaty perfection that was, well, anything but. Funny how my baking skills have declined in a way that is directly proportionate to the number of children I have, which is the same for my brain capacity as well, I'm sure. I still remember how to read, I used the right ingredients, I made sure nothing extra was added (or taken away) by my pint sized prep cook, but still they flopped. Running over the sides of the pan, dripping to the bottom of an oven that still smelled of the fresh plastic it was packed in when we moved in just a short month ago. I'm sure the fact that I was over zealous when it came to forming these masterpieces had nothing to do with them spreading out to 5+ inches and overflowing off the pan. Well, maybe a little. But that certainly didn't explain all of their short comings. They were a mushy mess, with golden brown edges, no doubt. Since I was unable to actually keep any in their proper shape while scraping them off the pan, this left ample opportunity for me to taste test, or so I tried to explain to my two year old. Fortunately (or unfortunately) enough, their taste was still superb, and I ate just enough to cause my teeth to actually start hurting - I wish I was kidding. But then I realized something. I have a lot in common with this mushy mess of wanna be cookies sitting on my counter. I have all the right ingredients, after all I am wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) in His image (Genesis 1:27). Most days I feel like nothing more than a mushy mess, closely resembling someone from the show What Not To Wear (and I'm not referring to the hosts), but to God I still taste sweet. I still have all the right ingredients. I am once again reminded that where I see a work in progress, He sees perfection. Take it one step further. Maybe it's not such a bad thing to lose our shape and form, then we may be more ready and willing to accept the one God has picked out for us already. Or in the case of the cookies, the shape and form didn't matter, they still tasted amazing, just as they were supposed to.