Good Intentions

Intention: n. A course of action that one intends to follow. 2. An aim that guides action; an objective.

I wanted to make blueberry muffins for the 6:45 a.m. youth religion class I teach. It was Friday and we struggled through Jeremiah and Lamentations all week. I wanted to reward their effort and acknowledge their work. I envisioned combining a spiritual feast with a home-baked one.

At 9 p.m. the night before, I decide that I have too much on my plate and try to be content with the lesson I prepared.

At 6:05 a.m., dressed and ready, I say, “There is enough time; I can still do this.”

At 6:07, I heat the oven and began doubling my favorite blueberry muffin recipe. I need to get them in by 6:15 for this to work.

At 6:12, I stress a little, stirring the blueberries into the batter. What was I thinking?

At 6:17, I am lining muffin tins with paper wrappers.

At 6:19, My family comes in for prayers while I am filling the muffin cups. My husband looks at me funny. He says, “Do you have enough time to bake them?”

At 6:20, I stick them into the oven and set the timer for 15 minutes. Perfect. 15 minutes to cook. 10 minutes to get there.

At 6:33, I load up my car and start it—minus the muffins, which are still baking.

At 6:35, the toothpick comes out gooey. Overfilled the cups. Going to take longer. I set the timer for one more minute.

At 6:36, I take the muffins out, set the hot muffin tins on two larger baking sheets and grab them to leave. I burn my thumbs in the process.

At 6:45, I am halfway to the building. Ok, only a few minutes late. I am never late, and they always are. Should work out fine.

At 6:49, I drive down the road to the building. I see a familiar minivan coming toward me. I hope they were just dropped off.

At 6:50, I pull up, and one boy gets out of his car. No one else there. I am juggling the muffins and my lesson materials. I ask him for help, and he tells me three other students were here but they left. “But I made them muffins.”

At 6:51, I open the building and turn on the lights and set the muffins down in the classroom. I can’t just teach him myself. I tell him that and then say, “Wait right here, maybe I can let them know I’m here.” I grab my cell phone to find some phone numbers, but the battery goes dead.

At 6:53, I am in my car, back on the main road, driving the short distance to the high school. I make it a block and see another student’s car coming toward me. Good, we can have class, now. I turn around and head back to the building.

At 6:54, I watch that student drive right past the nearly empty parking lot.

At 6:55, Back in the building, I tell the one original student, “We’ll wait five minutes.”

At 7:02, I hand him two muffins on a napkin and cancel class.

At 7:10, I am walking the halls of the high school’s south campus trying to bring muffins to my students. The halls are empty except for the cooks in the kitchen preapring school lunch.

Plenty of food. Just no one to eat it.

This is why I am not spontaneous.


  1. Julie
    Apr 28, 2008

    Aww! Sorry it didn’t work out like you’d hoped! I’ve had things like that happen when I am indecisive and make the final decision at the last minute and then it just doesn’t work out like I’d hoped. I’m sure somebody got to enjoy those muffins though!

  2. Carrie Jensen
    Apr 28, 2008

    Oh…poor Teresa. What a sad story. I am reading this and totally experiencing it with you, and know exactly how you must have felt…I’m sorry. 🙂

  3. DO
    Apr 28, 2008

    Ahh…this story has a happy ending…
    9:45 – said muffins intended for kids in class are brought, not quite as warm, but still light and flakey, into our office and we eat them! At least they were appreciated, if not by the intended recipient. Here’s hoping the kids don’t show up next time you make them treats as well! 😉

  4. Miriam Lovell Dyer
    Apr 29, 2008

    I love this post, but I feel for you too. It reminds me of my Christmas travel post.

  5. TJ
    Apr 29, 2008

    Yes, She’s right. Check out her travel post to see if she made it. . .

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *