Posted by: bandaidchild | June 27, 2010

Apple Filling

Recently one of my good friends moved on to greener pastures. Albeit those pastures would be found north from here, in Illinois, but for her and her husband, they sure liked the sight of anywhere but Joplin. I understand this compulsion; it’s easy to get disillusioned by a city. Once her best friend moved to a foreign country, I think she was ready to be closer to home anyway.

Before they sailed off to the Land of Lincoln, her and her husband gave me a whole bunch of stuff they didn’t want. Including a dryer, some pots and pans, packets of Chinese soup, twistie ties, marshmallows, about a thousand packets of hot chocolate (which I will most certainly devour in just a few short months), and a can of apple pie filling.

This pie filling has been passed down, not for centuries, but from at least two other couples who moved into their first home. I guess it was kind of a tradition to simply give it away when you moved, as had been done by previous couples. But here I was, hungry as a hippo, salivating over its contents. Guess I had no intention of “paying it forward”. It was just about the first food item placed in my new house since I’d moved. Soon I realized that we did not have a can opener in our house, so it stayed lonely on the shelf, along with the marshmallows and mounds of hot chocolate, doomed themselves to uselessness until the first frost.

And then tonight happened.

Jenny brought home a can opener.

And I opened it like the average child might open a Christmas gift: I might as well have had claws to tear open my surprise.

I slopped all the glorious apples in sauce into a bowl, got a big spoon, and fed the Hungry Beast inside me.

My surprise tasted noticeably more like pears, and the filling that came with it seemed to be a cousin of Petroleum Jelly.

It was definitely not yummy.

But I ate it anyway.

And I’m realizing I do that a lot with stuff. I create something in my mind to be the end-all-be-all: the epitome of greatness; something that will solve my issues, and then I get let down… But I still indulge in it regardless of its inability to actually solve any problems.

the petroleum apples hardly filled me. If anything, they nauseated me, though I felt some sort of moral obligation to finish what I’d started, since I had imagined them to be so dang tasty.

But all I did was ingest mildly disgusting (and probably beyond its expiration), high caloric, fructose apple-pear things encased in globs of petroleum jelly.

I am trying to see the things I endure, or indulge, because I feel like they will fulfill me. I am trying to see them so that I can eradicate them.

Lies I tell myself. . .

1. If I have stability with a job, I should be fine.

2. If I have enough money to get by, that will suffice right now.

3. This new med should do the trick.

4. I’m taking active steps towards Jesus and following Him; the rest should fall into place.

I know number four is a good one, but there is this part of me that is still systematically, logically, trying to map out my life all over again. So I suppose I’ll need to take a step back, evaluate my motives, and continue seeking Wisdom from His Word, those He has placed into my life, and speaking to Him.


My friend Stephanie has told me that before, but I don’t really like it. It jumbles up all my plans.

In my attempt to relinquish control I do stupid things like eat petroleum and apples together. Life is not what I want it to be. If it is what I want it to be, isn’t that selfish? Isn’t that abandoning God’s design for my life?

His path probably doesn’t involve high-caloric apple filling.


That’s all for tonight; I’m tired. I’m not too concerned if this makes sense to anyone else this evening.

Tally ho!




  1. I love to read the things you write, and read about how you learn.

    I can totally identify with getting your hopes up for the apples then being let down… as I was reading that, it made me wonder if there was a picture of a beautiful apple pie on the can, that made you exptect to get delicious apple pie in a can.
    I do this too, I do a lot of “if/then” self talk. To get that apple pie we have to work at making it great: adding cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar, BUTTER and crust. Sadly, in life we can’t just crack open a “can” of perfection. Or maybe we should should start with the proverbial ‘real apples’ of life to begin with. I don’t know if I’m putting this together as I’d hoped. None the less, I love you…

  2. …I loved hearing about the passed-down, past-expiration apple pie filling. It made me laugh and my stomach hurt…

    “I am trying to see the things I endure, or indulge”… insight is such a good friend to our souls and to our hearts, even when what we discover isn’t really what we want to see. I’m inspired by the way you look inward.

  3. Thanks guys! Glad I got a good laugh outta you.

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