Listening to: A song about cookies
Reading: The Mixed up Chameleon
Writing About: Gingerbread houses, sugar and identity, keeping it real
Chapter one: Gingerbread houses
My big kids made gingerbread houses last week. Yours probably did too.
This thing is like a dream for a kid.
A house completely made of candy.
It is literally ALL CANDY.
Ok, fine. It’s not “All Candy” there’s a waxy cardboard milk carton in there too.
CHAPTER two: Sugar cookies
My kids made sugar cookies last week. Yours probably did too.
I feel like I have a pretty good sense of the kid hierarchy of Christmas sweets.
Sugar Cookies are definitely below Gingerbread Houses.
Sugar Cookies are like distant cousins to Shortbread: humble, simple, delicious.
Even when they are iced and sprinkled
They are a far cry from the majesty of the Gingerbread House.
Gingerbread Houses are in the same ideological family as Santa Clause.
I mean to say, they are a flashy fantasy that represents some much less exciting reality.
Fantasies aren’t bad or evil, but they also aren’t real.
CHAPTER three: Everything that glitters ain’t always gold
Sugar Cookies have one advantage over gingerbread houses.
You can actually eat and enjoy them.
In my book, that is a pretty serious advantage.
I wonder about Gingerbread houses:
If the function is beauty, why tease us with all the delicious sugar?
If the function is sweetness, why the stale royal icing and milk carton?
I don’t think sugar cookies should aspire to be Gingerbread Houses.
Would they be better if you put licorice across them?
or stood them up against a cereal box and stuck a jolly rancher to their side?
*and all the three year old blog readers replied “OF COUSE THEY WOULD!”
CHAPTER four: the inevitable metaphor
I am a preacher.
A preacher without a pulpit.
I’ve got to get it out somewhere, right?
Be the best version of what God made you to be.
The sugar cookie imitating the gingerbread house loses it’s virtue: deliciousness
The Gingerbread House that sheds it’s decoration for the sake of taste loses it’s virtue: Beauty.