Last night at about 11:15 PM, my phone began to ring. I checked the Caller ID, only to see that my dear friend, Anna Marie, was calling. I prepared myself to hear the sounds of voices around her, as I am used to being butt-dialed from her back pocket.
However, I was in for a special treat.
"Hi. Okay. Think about your baking skills."
What? "I'm thinking about them..."
"So...what can I substitute for an egg?"
"Um...applesauce usually works in cakes or brownies. But other than that..."
"Good. We're making brownies. (At this point, I didn't know that I was included in this "we.") Crap. No applesauce."
"Oh Anma, that's okay! I'll bring one over to you."
"See, I'm at my house. My real one. Where my parents live."
"Oh. Well...I don't know what to tell you."
"I'll just come back to campus and bake them. Meet me at my room in five?"
Find egg. Find shoes. Find sweatshirt. Explain to girls where I am going.
I felt like Domestic Superwoman.
I got to Anna Marie's room, and find her frantically looking for vegetable oil. Of course, no one is awake now...but luckily, I find butter and quickly melt it.
We begin adding things to the bowl of butter.
Now for the eggs. I turn my back to check that the oven is on and...
Anna Marie had cracked the egg...into the sink and down the drain.
Find another egg in the fridge. Add to mixture.
Abigail gives us encouragement and frilly aprons.
We tie them on and buckle down.
Anna Marie furiously stirs the batter while I grease the pan.
Suddenly, she freezes.
"Oh dear. I think...No, I definitely left the oven on at home."
We switch into high gear. Pour the batter in the pan. Tell Abigail to listen for the smoke alarm.
We dash out of the apartment, still in our aprons, determined to turn off the oven before the house burns down.
As we walk in, Anma says, "It's not going to be on. It's not going to be on..."
But it is. After shutting that fire hazard down, we raid the fridge for yogurt and I receive a quick tour of the home.
We race back to school, aprons flying everywhere and laugh at sidewalk couples as we approach her building.
Up the stairs, and into the apartment, we smell the brownies and I feel like I can finally breathe now that I know they aren't burnt.
We find Abigail, still awake and giddy.
General girl talk ensues, mostly stories about awkward encounters in the Lex and at flag football games.
But what follows is not typical of all, but it is typical of these girls.
We talk about devotions and Elisabeth Elliot and what we are reading and learning.
We slip from girl talk to Gospel in about 2.5 seconds.
And I breathe it in.
The smell of brownies.
The scent of friendship.
And the sweet aroma of the Lord's pleasure in blessing us.
Not only with His grace, but with each other.
And I hug Anna Marie.
And we whisper of our gratefulness for each other and how sweet the Lord is.
And I am reminded that I'm loved.
But the silly thing is...it's all just because she needed an egg.
Oh the joys of spontaneity and friendship.