Carrot cake. Heavenly cake. Key lime pie. Chocolate bread pudding. Apple crisp bread pudding…In our family, we each get a personal birthday dessert, and no one else is allowed to choose it. Think Tank wavers between cookies and cakes, still searching for the perfect treat. He’s more like his mama: savory is more his thing than sweet. It’s just hard to imagine a birthday candle burning atop a pile of hot wings. There’s no question for Hubby. He staked his birthday claim a while ago. I had him at “sweet potato.” We serve his sweet potato pound cake warm, no glaze or icing, just a light dusting of powdered sugar. It’s a beautiful, delicious thing.
At least it was last year.
This year, I followed the same recipe I’ve always followed from the same butter-, sweet potato-, and chocolate-smudged cookbook. I coated the same tube pan with non-stick baking spray, set the oven to 350°, poured in the batter, and waited for an hour fifteen minutes before taking out the cake. It was pretty. I’ll give it that. And it slid out smoothly onto the plate. But the only thing I could put in that cake was a candle because I couldn’t stick my fork in it. It still wasn’t done…until forty-five minutes later, when I finally threw in my flour-covered dish towel. Hubby had a happy birthday, just not a tasty one.
You wouldn’t know to look at the perfect brown exterior that inside, that sweet potato cake was mushy and raw. Just like me. Sometimes people say, “You’ve got your lipstick on, you hair is done, the kids are all matching. You’ve got it all together.” But they can’t see I’m all undone inside, a mess, totally imperfect. The kids were screaming in the car all the way to the door and I was threatening to burn all their electronics and I forgot to feed the dog the day before. Mushy, raw, and about to get put back in the fire.
Without Jesus all I’ve got is lipstick and clean clothes. He puts me through the perfecting heat of certain trials and struggles to make me fit for a seat at His table. I’m still quite crusty and I’m just a little bit hard to take sometimes, but if you take me in small bites and sprinkle on a little Jesus, I’m alright. Just like Hubby’s cake.
“But He knows the way that I take; When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.” (Job 23:10)
Woooow. I love love love this. You totally described me. I just groan when people say “I don’t know how you do it!” thinking “I don’t! Jesus does it and I’m just hanging on! And don’t look at my floor or clothes hamper!” Keep sharing, sister! I love it – God bless! 🙂