Can We See the Icing on the Cake?

IMG_6106In a banquet room lit with floating candles, white Christmas lights, and sparkling silver decor, there was a small round table draped in white cloth. And on that table, there stood a one-tier wedding cake with no topper.

She made it from scratch.

 A double, eight-inch round chocolate cake covered in white fondant, trimmed in sugar pearls and pink miniature roses.

She made it from a labor of love.

“God laid it on my heart to bake your daughter a cake for her wedding. If you want it, I can drop it off…”

And so she did, while the guests were at the ceremony.

Attracting attention, receiving money and thanks, was not her intention. She was obedient and followed her heart.

There was nothing ornate about the cake table. No bling or glitter to draw one’s eye. It was upstaged by a larger two-tiered cake, surrounded by a wreath of white lights and roses, on another table.

But some guests noticed the little cake, and asked, “Why do you have two cakes?”

Each time I explained the story, my eyes became wet.

Because a woman I met once, who makes cakes in her kitchen, felt compelled to bake my daughter a cake. She called the morning of the wedding, not knowing we’d bought a cake. And still she chose to give us the cake at her own expense.

Accepting her love gift was like eating humble pie. I’d done nothing to deserve this favor.

 But then again, I’d witnessed many acts of kindness during the wedding preparations. This gift from a stranger’s hands was another example of God working through His saints. This undeserved favor, this grace, was the “icing on the cake!”

As a formality, the wedding couple cut the larger cake during the reception. There was little fanfare.

Three days later, the returning honeymoon couple sliced the sweet love gift during our Christmas feast. And while family members enjoyed dessert, I shared the story of the little wedding cake which had become symbolic of grace.

 Even now the empty cake plate makes me smile, thankful for the never-ending grace in my life.

Who can earn God’s grace, yet He chooses to pour out His grace without measure.

Who knows how many people I have offended who turn the other cheek and show me grace.

I only know, whether it’s the surety of my soul’s salvation or a one-tiered wedding cake, GRACE ABOUNDS.

Regardless of my circumstances, if I have eyes to see, I will find grace even in this…..

“May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word” (2 Thessalonians 2:16-17).

Where have you noticed God’s recent grace in your life?

Speaka da English?

 A monster-size banana split sits on the middle of the table between my husband and me. With metal spoons, we divide and conquer heaps of ice cream covered in hot fudge, lathered in whipped cream. Words aren’t necessary to communicate our pleasure.

At another table in the ice cream parlor, two men laugh as their nimble hands create words in the air; their visual conversation public to anyone in the room who knows sign language.

Reminds me of a Starbucks café in southern California where a community of the hearing impaired congregate on Friday nights. Varied in age and ethnicity, they drive from miles away for the opportunity to talk with each other, and know they’re not alone.

I understand the craving to communicate. On a recent trip to Italy, it was easy to imagine being at the ancient Tower of Babel.

“Therefore its name is called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the earth; and from there the Lord scattered them abroad….” (See Genesis 11:1-9)

Not only did I not understand Italian, a throng of international tourists around me spoke in their native tongues. I felt as helpless as a kindergarten kid looking for pictures to decipher business signs and menus. Even my infantile attempt to speak a few Italian words did little to bridge the communication gap.

So imagine how my ears perked up whenever I overheard someone speaking English. Even the broken English from a stranger’s lips seemed like a welcome mat in a foreign land.

I experience these same emotions when I meet other born again Christians particularly abroad. There’s an instant bond that defies explanation. As brothers and sisters in Christ, we speak the same language. Issues like culture, wealth, education, and occupation (that might otherwise divide us) shrink in light of who we are in Christ.

I’m grateful for the fellowship of the saints, the body of Christ throughout this world that reminds me ….

I’m a sojourner on Earth. My citizenship is in heaven. And I am not alone.

 “For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:26-28).

Is Your Well Dry?

Turn on the kitchen faucet. Not a drop of water.

Discover our well pump gave up the ghost, no longer works. Which means we don’t shower, wash dishes or clothes, water the plants or lawn, or flush toilets.

Have to wait three days to resolve the problem. So we stock up on bottled water to drink and brush our teeth. Pretend we’re camping.

Besides our human needs, my outdoor plants droop beneath a glaring sun. Blades of green grass are fringed with brown in the 98-degree heat.  Squirrels search empty bird baths for a cool drink.

 Psalm 42:1 comes to mind: “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.”

Is that so?

1) Does my soul pant for God? Or is it passive?

2) Do I recognize my spiritual dry spells? Realize its impact?

 Jesus told the Samaritan woman who came to draw water from a well, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water?  

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:10-14)

Like that woman, I’ve been to the well. I drank the Living Water. Was saved, sanctified, and satisfied.

I’m so dependent on the “spring of water” that I can’t imagine my life without Christ any more than I can manage my house without running water.

Even so, how often do I needlessly drag my body through the dry desert, relying on my man-made camel back instead of Christ to satisfy my inner thirst?

Whine and wonder why I’m scraping in the sand for something to quench my thirst, like the raccoon that bit off the head of my underground sprinkler in search of water, instead of going to the well.  

Those were the thoughts dripping in my mind as I waited for the installation of our new pump, followed by my joyful outburst when the cold water flowed like heaven-sent rain from our faucets.

Reminding me, even in this, how grateful I am for Jesus, the Living Water.       

What is Truly Good

An amber skyline precedes the rising sun. I have been awake for hours, the result of jet lag, to watch another day come to light. And I remember …

The sun rising over the Tyrrhenian Sea as we arrived to the port of Civitavecchia, Italy. My husband and I had come to the end of a ten-day Mediterranean Cruise, and the beginning of a three-day visit to Rome where…

We witnessed the brilliant colors of Michelangelo’s ceiling frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, sat mesmerized in Raphael’s Rooms, and browsed the ancient, white marble sculptures that filled the Palace Vatican’s museums which led to …

St. Peter’s Basilica where golden incense lamps, cardinal robes, mosaic tiled floors, sapphire curtains, polished brass, and more magnificent ceilings and sculptures made my jaw drop and eyes bulge at the opulence and man-made beauty.

Architecture and artwork unsurpassed by anything I’d ever seen…

Until this morning, when God painted the heavenly canvas outside my window with a stroke of His Sovereign hand,

And reminded me what is truly good.

“This is the day which the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).

Vertical Gaze

My teenage son’s calf and thigh muscles bulged under the strain of running the one-mile race. Beads of sweat lined his tan brow. His eyes were fixed ahead, oblivious to the people in the stadium. With lips partially open, he inhaled deeply and led the other runners during the first two laps.

Then a swift runner passed my son, and left him lagging behind. My pulse quickened as I watched from the bleachers. I shouted as he ran by, “Keep going. Finish strong!”

On the final stretch of the fourth lap, my son’s face grimaced as a spurt of energy catapulted him pass the runner ahead of him, and over the finish line. Throwing his head back, he gasped for breath and let his body relax. Victory was attained, but not without endurance.

I am not a runner like my son, but I’ve been on this marathon journey called life for fifty plus years. Some days I’m in my running groove, able to persevere and finish strong.

Other days, it seems I’m on a treadmill. I’m worn out, going nowhere, and….

  •  Sick of the rat race: the pressures to make a buck, perform, and compete with the Jones.
  •      Tired of the mundane business of daily life: what do you want for dinner?
  •      Overwhelmed by the tyranny of the urgent.

BUT when I adjust my eyesight. When I shift my gaze from horizontal to vertical, I’m able to endure the race because ….

Horizontal eyes are dilated from fear and anxiety over what if’s, and situations outside of my control.

       Vertical eyes trust in a sovereign God who will lead me and not forsake me.

Horizontal eyes are envious of other people’s success, and concerned with their approval.

       Vertical eyes choose to live before God and not man.

Horizontal eyes allow the world to set the benchmark, and assess my performance and worth.

       Vertical eyes “run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith….” (Heb.12:1, 2)

 Which direction are you gazing?