Take the broken pieces of your life, bake a master cake out of it.–Israelmore Ayivore
Life is a cake and love is the icing on top of it. Without love, it becomes difficult to swallow life.–Mehek Bassi
Have you ever tasted flour or baking powder? What about vanilla extract, unsweetened canned pumpkin, cinnamon, salt or even a raw egg, how would each item taste on its own? Personally, I even find sugar, by itself, isn’t really that tasty, but certainly more preferred than the previously mentioned ingredients. However, if all of these ingredients are baked together with some oil or applesauce, and perhaps some milk, you have the makings of a pumpkin spice cake, a perineal fall favorite.
My sixth grade students are required to read a novel in which a caring adult challenges the rebellious, teenage main character to try the individual ingredients of a spice cake. Accepting the dare, the main character boldly tries each item, determined to hide how badly most, if not all, of the ingredients taste separately.
When asked how it all tasted, the character snarked, “Gross . . . .What did you expect?”
Of course, the caring adult is providing an object lesson for the malcontent teen, and while I’ve read this book countless times, this scene really struck a chord with me this past week.
There can be no doubt that 2020 has been full of harsh ingredients. From the bitter taste of a pandemic worthy virus causing the senseless deaths of hundreds of thousands of people to acidic rhetoric and social media posts. From the salty feeling left from closures, unemployment, and economic fall-out to the bittersweet taste of quarantining at home, increasing feelings of isolation, anxiety, depression, and fanning the flames of fear. Jobs have been lost, and those that remain have been drastically impacted, and many are forever changed. People are hurting, struggling, striving, and worst of all, dying. At times, it feels as if it is just too much, especially if we dwell upon all those negatives.
Likewise, I am certain there are many readers in which even before the life-altering events of 2020 for whom life hasn’t always seemed fair. There are those whose experience as a child was far from ideal. Others may have experienced the way-to-soon death of a parent or care-giver. Some have experienced wars abroad in which morib, horrific, and violent scenes were a frequent occurrence. While others have battled severe illness such as cancer, brain or nervous system disorders, disformed/disfigured bodies, heart/blood issues, lung/breathing issues, and, well, the list could go on . . . . There are those who have been a victim of trauma, severe accident, or other life changing occurrence. The list of negative life events can go on, seemingly to infinity. Additionally, others may experience the negative feelings associated with the lack of progress, the feeling of stagnation, entrapment, or and so on. Frankly, there are numerous events that can leave us with a bitter taste in our mouths, and unfortunately it’s just so darn easy to focus and dwell upon all of the bad in the world and/or within our own lives.
This is where the lesson of the cake began to reveal a few frosted edges of hope. While I am not denying the bitterness, dryness, and acrid taste of this year, nor am I denying the very realness of life-altering, horrible events. I, too, have visited and dwelled in the valley of woe–and, I find, wallowing around in my own misery isn’t really that beneficial. Therefore, I am challenging myself, and you too, Dear Reader, to reflect if it is possible to take these negative individual ingredients and create a bite of sweet hope.
I sincerely believe in the old adage that hope springs eternal. Additionally, I put my trust in my faith and love. That is why I started out as a special education teacher, and even now why I continue to teach as well as write. I still believe in a world in which faith, hope, and love can make a difference. This belief, to which I have clung for the entirety of my life, has waned and worn at times. And yet, I am reminded of an old hymn my Grandmother used to hum, and sometimes sing in her off-key voice, around her house that was based on one of her favorite Bible passages.
. . . “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength
They shall mount up with wings as eagles
They shall run and not be weary
They shall walk and not faint
Teach me Lord, teach me Lord, to wait. . .”–Bill and Gloria Gaither
When I bake a cake, especially one from scratch, it takes time. First of all, I have to gather all of the ingredients–including stopping at the store if need be. Then, I have to preheat the oven and prepare the pan. Next, the dry ingredients are blended together, while in another bowl, the wet ingredients are likewise mixed. Wet ingredients are folded into the dry ingredients, and any additional fruits, nuts, or candy chips are added before all the ingredients, now one massive lump of gooey-looking gunk, gets dumped in a heap in the cake pan, spread into a thinner viscous substance, and placed into a scalding hot oven for a set time period that is never quick. Time passes slowly as the kitchen is gradually filled with the scents–hope of what is to come. Even once removed, one still has to wait for the cake to cool before it can be frosted. This, of course, takes more time.
Meanwhile, whipping up frosting does not happen with the snap of fingers. It takes the sweetness of confectioners sugar combined with the acrid taste of vanilla, the brineyness of salt, and the over-rich taste of melted butter in order to create a creamy, but oh-so-sugary, frosting.
Eventually, all of the waiting, the working, the wondering, the wishing, and the hoping all come together as a fork delves from cake to mouth, and soon the taste buds are dancing, the brain is singing a song of praise, and all tastes dreamy sweet in that one moment in time. Sure, the cake doesn’t last forever, and neither do good times. Thus, if we want more cake, we have to endure the bitter with acid, the bland with spice, the heating with the cooling period and all the in-between moments. And, yet, it is the cake that is remembered, not the bitter taste of all the individual ingredients.
2020 has certainly been rancorous at times. What’s more is that life, on the whole, can be as challenging, and run as hot as a 350 degree oven. Waiting can be hard. Therefore, as I put my faith in the baking process, so too, must I put my faith in Divine Providence, and humbly ask, as my grandmother used to sing, “Teach me, Lord, teach me, Lord, to wait.” Cake is coming soon.