Twinkies and Pie and Wonderstruck

If you like Twinkies and you're heartbroken by their demise, this is not a blogpost for you. Stop reading right now.

Several days ago my Facebook feed was filled with sad statuses because Twinkies will no longer be available. Many of my friends identify Twinkies with happy childhood memories.

I tried to remember a joyful Twinkie moment. I couldn't. I just remember thinking they tasted funny.

I wondered why I was such an odd child and I came to the conclusion that I didn't care for Twinkies because my mom and my grandma made PIE.

We were kind of a pie-focused family. Pecan pie was the perfect end to a holiday meal. My dad chose pecan pie instead of birthday cake. In the summer my mom and I would pick blackberries to freeze and prepare peaches to can--all with the thought of PIE.

Mom and Grandma made their own pie crusts and never used store bought pie filling. My dad taught me that the appropriate way to greet Grandma when she came to visit was to meet her in the driveway and ask if she bought pie.

PIE was dessert. Nothing really measured up to PIE. Plastic-wrapped Twinkies really can't compare to a warm fragrant piece of pie on your plate.

I'd experienced something fresh and real and wonderful--and the preservative-filled Twinkies that were shipped across the country never had a chance to tempt me.

I see a spiritual lesson here. When I experience the wonder of God and taste His goodness, the temptations of the world seem stale and tasteless in comparison. I recently  had the privilege of reading a sneak peek of Margaret Feinberg's Wonderstruck.

The title Wonderstruck caught my attention when Margaret mentioned it months ago. Wonderstruck. Awestruck by the wonder of God. That's how I want to live my life. I want to be conscious of the reality of God and tuned in to His voice.

Margaret wrote:

God’s infinite nature knows neither beginning nor end; our
Creator is like a vast ocean, fathomless and without bounds, an
ever-rising tide without abatement, yet in my spiritual journey
in the months after our move, I stood ankle deep, baptized only
in the shallows of his presence. I sensed the Spirit beckoning me
to plunge into the cool, shadowy depths marked by indescribable
beauty, those unforgettable moments of life that draw us
closer to God. Allured by the Spirit, I lunged forward.
And I prayed for wonder.

Will you join me in praying for wonder?



Read more about Wonderstruck at margaretfeinberg.com.