11050a In my opinion, the secret to a great pie is a great crust. I think a filling is important too, but the crust . . . ohhhh, that flaky, buttery, light, melt-in-your-mouth crust . . . now that isn’t as easy as pie. It takes some real expertise to pull that off.

It has been said that if you bake someone a homemade pie, you make a friend for life. My friend Lisa makes some of the best pies. Put just about anything between her pie crusts, sweet or savory, and I will eat it—chunks of delicate white chicken in a creamy sauce, or her backyard-grown berries, and my personal favorite, apple pie.

I asked her for her recipe. She said, “It’s so simple!” Okay, so I tried it. Not so good. I asked for a tutorial. She stood beside me and showed me how she did it, letting me get my hands in the bowl to handle the dough. “See,” she said, “look, you can still see small bits of the butter. That is the secret, don’t over-mix!”

I tried again, this time melted butter overflowed the pan sides, flowing in golden rivulets between the racks to the bottom of the oven. What a mess!

So why is it, when I am a fairly good cook, I am still a novice at baking pies? I want to be able bake a perfect pie—not because I can’t find a good one in a restaurant or because I don’t know a few girlfriends who know how to do it very, very well.

Ok, so here is what I need. I don’t need a recipe card; I have plenty of those. I don’t need your pie-making tips. I don’t need you to just show me how you do it one more time. What I need is you! I need you to stand beside me for a month of Saturdays (maybe longer) and watch me as I try again, cutting the cold butter into small pieces, knowing the right amount of icy cold water to add, and when to stop mixing. Teach me, coach me, please!

It is this concept that some things are better caught than taught that got me thinking about mentoring. The missing piece in the lives of many young Christian girls is the absence of a circle of godly, wiser women to whom they will give permission to mentor them—not just tell them what they need to know as a woman, a wife, a mother, but to come train alongside them.

This is the very idea behind Titus 2. The older women are to “teach” the younger women. It is not just listening to the Bible being taught, though that is foundational. It is more. Teaching includes modeling by words and examples. This impact happens as we interact, at times by participating in a small group discussion, through ongoing personal conversations, and sharing by example and explanation.

Where it will not happen is in isolation.

So here is the challenge to you spiritual mothers: will you allow God to use you to help others learn from your knowledge and experience, your mistakes and your victories? What qualifies you as an older woman isn’t your age (that may be part of it), but spiritual maturity is more important. Even twenty-somethings can mentor a high school or college student just a few years behind them. A young mother might mentor a newlywed. A mother of teens is of great value to a mother of toddlers. A career woman can guide a young college graduate who’s a workforce rookie.

Each of us has gained a measure of wisdom and comfort we can share with someone just a little behind us on the path. It’s not rocket science. Just the other day I heard my granddaughter Allie, who is 4, trying to comfort her little 2-year-old brother Christopher, who was crying about something. She ran to him, threw her arms around him and held him tight, and in a tone of voice that she no doubt heard her mother use with her a hundred times said, “Don’t cry, Keefer, Allie is here to save you.” It made us all laugh. But what was happening was so natural; she was just passing on the wisdom of her experience and the comfort she had received. She learned how by the regular example of her mother. She had learned it easy as pie!

“For I am mindful of the sincere faith within you, which first dwelt in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice, and I am sure that it is in you as well” (2 Timothy 1:5).