I should have listened to my friend Karen. “Sprinkle the nuts in the bottom of the pan, then arrange 15 frozen bread balls on top.” 

I was listening, really I was, but when I stood in the kitchen looking into the Bundt pan, fifteen just didn’t look right. They barely covered the bottom.

I think she said 15. But maybe I didn’t hear her right. Or maybe her pan is smaller than mine.

I looked again at those meager globs. That doesn’t look like much at all, and we have seven people to feed. It wouldn’t hurt to throw in a few more. 

So I did. Ten more to be exact. 

Then I poured the butter over the top, covered the pan in plastic wrap, and went to bed. As instructed. All night long I dreamed of gooey sticky buns. 

The next morning I awoke to a disturbing message from my daughter, texting from the kitchen. 

There’s been an explosion. 

At first I thought she was referring to one of the grandchildren. The one who still wears diapers. But then I remembered the sticky buns. 

A second message vibrated my phone. It was a picture of my sticky buns. Mushrooming from the Bundt pan like a size 18 lady wearing a size 12 pants. 

It won’t fit in the oven, she texted. What do I do?

I’m ashamed to admit there have been quite a few times in my life when I’ve been convinced I know more than the expert. I don’t follow the doctor’s recommendation. I disregard directions on the back of a bottle. I ignore the maintenance light on the dash. 

Sometimes I even think I know more than God. Imagine that. 

I react angrily despite his warning that “human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” 

I stay up past midnight working despite his reminder, “It is vain for you to rise up early, To sit up late, To eat the bread of sorrows; For so He gives His beloved sleep“ (Psalm 127:2). 

I worry despite his call to “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6-7). 

I ignore God’s instructions and go my own way, dismissing the instructions and principles he’s given me for holy, healthy, productive living. And then I’m surprised when things don’t turn out right. 

Anger injures my relationships and damages my testimony. Lack of sleep reveals my lack of trust and endangers my health. Anxiety steals the joy from my days and the sleep from my nights. 

Like my friend Karen knows the intricacies of her recipe, God knows every detail of my life. And the world in which I live. And the future I hope to inherit. He provides principles to live by, hope to cling to, and a future to dream of. 

Why, oh why would I ever think I know better than he? 

After lowering the oven rack, I gingerly placed the pan of bread dough in the oven, watching it warily through the glass door. The heat stopped the dough from rising any farther, and before long it was cooked. I flopped it onto a (rather large) plate and sighed. My pan of sticky buns bore little resemblance to the picture-perfect masterpieces my friend Karen makes. 

The extra dough stuck out everywhere, the inside hadn’t cooked thoroughly, and instead of being drenched in buttery caramel, much of the bread was crispy and dry. It was edible, but very different from the yummy dessert I’d hoped to enjoy. 

When I disregard God’s instructions for living, the same thing happens. Bits and pieces of our lives stick out everywhere, rebelliously refusing to stay in the margins. Some parts are under done, immature and stunted. I don’t achieve the full potential God intends for my life. 

Whether we’re talking about sticky buns or our Christian life, we have the greatest chance of success when we trust the Baker and follow the instructions. 

“Do not be wise in your own eyes; Fear the LORD and depart from evil. It will be health to your flesh, And strength to your bones” (Proverbs 3:7-8). 

Now it’s your turn. When have you failed to follow instructions (either man’s or God’s) and regretted it? What did you learn from your experience? Share your story in the comment box below.