The Day My Pancake Met God

I have long loved those big Dutch pancakes that are baked in the oven and puff up like some huge popover. Several years ago, though, I found out my body didn’t appreciate milk any more. Now for those of you who don’t know, Dutch pancakes are made with milk. I tried making them with water and with a dairy substitute. It didn’t work. Sadly, they turned out as flat as a – well, as a pancake, laying heavily in the bottom of the pan.

Just an ordinary Dutch pancake; not the one that met God

One morning I felt a yen for one of those light, puffy pancakes, and decided to make the the flat, water-based version. But as I gathered my ingredients, it occurred to me to share the desire of my heart with God.

“Oh Papa,” I said, “I have a request. Would You puff this pancake for me today?” And ruefully realizing what a ridiculous request this was to make of the God of the universe, I shrugged and added, “I know this is a frivolous request, but I’m often just a frivolous kinda gal.” And I smiled at Him and thanked Him for listening. And I made my pancake with water instead of milk and slid it into the oven, renewing my prayer.

When the timer went off, I opened the oven door and was stricken. There sitting in my oven was the absolutely puffiest pancake I’d ever seen in my life. It looked like the sea in a storm, with huge puffs covered with smaller puffs that were covered with smaller puffs still. I’d never seen or imagined anything like it in my life.

I fell on my knees there in front of the oven and cried out overwhelmed, “Oh God! You’ve visited my kitchen!”

I eventually ate that pancake. I ate it with awe and reverence and a deep awareness in my heart that the God of the universe was not too important to care about what even I considered a frivolous concern.

But that’s not the end of the story. I continued to make the Dutch pancakes for breakfast every few days, asking God to puff each one, and they all puffed up nicely. Nothing like that first amazing pancake, but like a normal Dutch pancake was supposed to. I was always grateful.

It must have been two weeks later that it dawned on me that I’d been making the pancakes a little differently. And as awareness kicked in, the memories began to play back and I could hear myself that first day thinking unconsciously to myself, “Oh, I think I’ll add a little bit less flour, and oh, maybe here a little bit extra water,” never realizing I was having those thoughts.

I was flooded with gratitude: Not only did God puff my pancake that first day, but He nudged me into a recipe that would consistently give me puffy Dutch pancakes made with water.

Which explains my consistent results since then. But it doesn’t explain that unbelievable first pancake.

Julia Child would have been awed.

Blessings!

Gail Ruth