I saw the devil this morning. Before you question my sanity, let me explain. I was having a rough morning. The Grumpies were in full force and I didn’t want them to hijack the rest of my day. I decided to go for a quick walk and sit for a few moments under my favorite pepper tree, tree bathing (yes, it’s a thing, look it up). It was a chance to calm down, talk to God, and let the beautiful morning seep into my soul. I would pull the aroma of bark and leaves into my nose, let the music of birds and insects tantalize my ears, and watch the squirrels play tag.

As I made the turn out of my cul-de-sac toward the tree grove, anticipation lightening my steps, I glanced to my left and saw the devil. To be fair, it was a human version of the devil. He was tall, dressed in black with a big mantle headdress flowing down his back, and wore a goat skull face mask complete with 6-inch horns. He was walking slowly, silently toward my tree grove.

I was instantly furious. How could he ruin my morning? The last thing I wanted to encounter when I was feeling down was the devil, especially on Halloween and especially when I was on my way to a rendezvous with God.

The metaphor wasn’t lost on me. That old cliché about kicking someone when they’re down comes straight from the devil’s playbook. But I had a choice. I could focus on the evil and the ugly and let my day spiral even further out of control, or I could hurry on to my appointment with God and let him set my feet on solid ground.

“Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Stand firm against him, and be strong in your faith. Remember that your family of believers all over the world is going through the same kind of suffering you are” I Peter 5:8-9.

    It was going to be a culinary triumph! The recipe promised an easy-to-make, flavorful deep dish pizza baked in a casserole dish. The crust was constructed from “whomp biscuits” (so named because you take refrigerated biscuit dough in a cylindrical can and whomp it on the counter to get it to pop open.)
    Since I’m a gluten-free (gf) person, I searched for gf whomp biscuits with no luck. But then I remembered that I had a box of gf biscuit mix and the problem was solved. Excitedly, I mixed the gf dough and added plenty of luscious pizza toppings and a generous coating of cheese. I slid it into the oven where it soon released wonderful tummy-rumbling smells throughout the house. When I set my crowning glory on the stove to cool, the cheese bubble merrily along the edges, I was sure it was a winner.
    My husband grabbed a piece as I finished putting things away, but suddenly I heard him coughing and spitting. Surely the dish couldn’t be that bad!
     It WAS that bad.
Some parts of the crust were cooked and some were still soggy, so I quickly put it back in the oven for 10 more minutes. This time it would be just perfect.
      Alas, it was worse.
The gf mix was crumbly and dry as dust, choking up my throat and sticking to my teeth. I tried eating the scrumptious cheese and toppings off of the crust, but the powdery mass had inserted itself into the cheese and couldn’t be separated. After my own bout of coughing and water drinking, I sadly dumped the entire casserole in the trash. It looked incredible, it was a showpiece, but it was inedible.
     Adding more cheese won’t cover up an unpalatable mass of selfishness.
“You clean the outside of the cup, but inside it is full of greed and self-indulgence,” Matthew 23:25.
BtheLove.