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The Humble Sausage Roll
By Christine Miles

Twelve weeks ago, our church announced an investment project. Each person who registered would be given ten dollars with a challenge to make it grow.

If I signed up, I knew what I'd do with my ten dollars. I'd make sausage rolls; home-made wholemeal flakey pastry using a low-fat butter with a tasty filling. The kind my meat-eating relatives never dreamed were vegetarian. They'd go like hotcakes. But I was too busy. Busy holding down three part-time jobs, raising three children, being involved in children's ministries at church, teaching Religious Education at school....

But God and I chat, and this time it was Him who came to me. It went like this:

God: Investment project, Christine. Make sausage rolls.

Me: Now, God. Where will I fit that into my day?

God: I will provide time. Make sausage rolls. Glorify my name.

Me: But God. I'll be inundated with orders. I won't be able to keep up.

God: I am in control. Make sausage rolls. Glorify my name.

Our chat did several circuits with minor variations, but God knows, and I know, that our silly conversations won't go on forever. He knows that I have learnt that it is better to bow to His will than to produce a million arguments against it. But He also knows that I have to state my case. Finally:

Me: OK, God. I'll make sausage rolls. I'll donate my time. I need You to provide me with the energy and the orders. Remember, I hate to get behind, so please only send enough orders for me to keep up with.

Challenge God. Challenge yourself.

I told five people about the fundraiser. The word spread rapidly. The first day I sold twenty-four dozen sausage rolls.

Each week for the next ten weeks I supplied between twenty-four and thirty dozen sausage rolls. It became a time of meditation, prayer, and songs of praise to God as I kneaded the pastry, made the filling, and formed the rolls. Sometimes I got up early. Sometimes I stayed up late. By the end of ten weeks I couldn't stand the sight of butter, pastry, or sausage rolls. By the end of ten weeks my ten dollar note had multiplied fifty-eight times.

God is good. God cared for me.

There was one week when we had friends come to stay. As is my habit, I talked to God.

"God, I've got people staying next week. I think I need a little break. If it's in Your plan."

That week I had orders for ten dozen sausage rolls. I praised God.

God used our sausage rolls to open doors.

I took sausage rolls to neighbors who lived alone. It provided an opportunity to share God with them. Glorify My name.

I shared 'left overs' with a friend who has an ailing mother. She asked to come to church with me. She returned home, exclaiming over the 'modern-ness' of our church facility and program. Glorify My name.

There is a theory that states that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. God knows this. As my agnostic husband ate a 'scrappy' sausage roll, he commented: "You must really believe in your church a lot to do this."

Glorify My name!

"'I do. But I believe in my God more."

Two days later, the conversation continued. Derek said, "I've decided I'll come to church with you once a month."

Oh, God. You have been revealed to those who don't know You ... through a humble sausage roll.
Christine Miles lives in Auckland, New Zealand. Apart from writing, her favorite pastime is to encourage people to see God in their everyday lives. Christine is a regular contributor to Signs magazine (www.signsofthetimes.org.au) and freelances to several other secular and Christian publications. If you would like to write to Christine, you can do so through the Letters page of this magazine.