Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.
I can’t tell you how often I haven’t gotten the outcome of a recipe I thought I would get. Basic cobblers, pies, and cookies are easy for me, but I will not be opening up a sweet and tasty booth anytime soon.
I remember a few weeks back I was making banana pudding for a friend when I forgot to temper the eggs and came out with scrambled eggs in the pudding! My friend never said a word, she kept my secret and said, “Don’t you worry, slap a little whip cream on there and throw in some extra bananas no one will know the difference!” We still laugh over that.
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Even the most inexperienced baker will tell you that a cake will never bake itself. You can have the recipe, but without the ingredients, it won’t work. The recipe card must be pulled from the box, ingredients gathered, measured, and mixed. Then heat must be applied.
My mother never let us be as young girls. It took many years and maybe even some ugly years. But when the timer went off, and we were on our own, what was poured, mixed, and stirred rose to the surface. For better or worse, the recipe was ours to mix.
Anything you “let be” will not improve. It will deteriorate. We must do the work if you want something to turn out well. You cannot “let” a cake.
We all have assignments that need tending to. We can call it a cake all we want, but until we mix the ingredients together, we will never taste completion.
When I was younger, I thought, how will I know how to make meals like my mother? I had watched it a thousand times but still didn’t know her secrets. Then, I found a pen and paper and marched into the kitchen. I asked my mother if we could make a pan of her cornbread. Beaming, my mother agreed. While preparing the batter, she leaned in and showed me some of her secrets for the perfect pan of cornbread. Delighted, I scratched it all down.
Today, I followed her instructions to the letter. Every bite tastes just as I remember. A friend asked for the recipe once, and I gave it to her—a heap of this and a handful of that. She was so confused and told me there was no way she could bake like that. I laughed and told her she would never be able to make my mother’s cornbread.
A few weeks ago, I was preparing a peach cobbler before our guests arrived. Eva, Charlotte, and I had readied the house, lit candles, and set the table so that each place setting was inviting for our friends. Finishing up on dessert, I leaned in and whispered, “I make my cobbler different than most. It’s a secret you girls must never tell.” They seemed pleased watching me add my secrets to the bowl.
The widow’s oil in 1 Kings 17:8-16 was about to run out, and she and her son would die. Elijah told her to bake him a cake first. Funny that he would ask something of her and not just “let it be”. When she honored God’s servant, God provided for her every need. She and her son lived happily after that. When we honor God with our assignment, whatever it may be: raising children or opening a small shop. When we obey – God shows up and provides all we need.
I was making biscuits before church one morning, and Eva approached me. Charlotte steadily eats pieces of dough. Tyson is sitting in his bouncer, happily watching. “Mom, what’s the secret to your biscuits?” I smiled as I cut out another biscuit with my homemade biscuit cutter (a tomato can, just like my mother’s). I got close to the girls and said, “Grammy.” “Yes, but what do you put in the biscuits that makes them better than most, they asked again?” I drifted back over forty years, thinking of all the work mom poured into home and family, the familiarity of sweet tea in the refrigerator and a towel over her shoulder; the rollers in our hair before Sunday service and the times spent just one on one. Once again, without question, I said, “Grammy.” “You see girls. It’s not just the ingredients that make the recipe irresistible; it’s the people and the home it was baked in.”
You will never “let a cake.” It must be baked – but it’s worth the wait. Thanks for the time, Mom.
The bin of flour was not used up, nor did the jar of oil run dry, according to the word of the Lord, which He spoke by Elijah. 1 Kings 17:16
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