This morning I woke with the intention to give thanks for the opportunity to journey forward in memory as I baked my mother’s cake in my new kitchen—Praise God! Baking my mom’s cake (covered with vanilla icing and coconut with strawberries on the top) is a gift GOD has given me as a shifting flour of grace. It is during this season that I find myself traveling through a sadness covered by joy–the joy of knowing that my parents are resting in Jesus.
I smile as I think of my sisters who I tease about my being the daughter of Annie-Dee who can authentically create her cake. This year as I mix the ingredients in the bowl, I listen to sermons, pray, digest the reality of my new kitchen, and enjoy gazing out the window at the cornfield.
Of the cornfield: The being of blessed is what I am experiencing in an atmosphere of beautiful simplicity.
Of the cornfield: This Thanksgiving morning is floured in a charming reminder of from whence my appreciation of sifted flour comes.
Of the cornfield: This Thanksgiving morning is sweet like the sugar and flour carefully moisten by eggs.
As I reflect upon this thankful moment, the doorbell rings.
I open the door. Standing before me: Two of God’s blessed daughters; they enter bearing a beautiful silver tray. My church mother, colleague, inspirational friend has gifted me a silver tray. “ You shall serve many in the home the Lord has given,” she says.
So I pray Lord in a house near the cornfield: I am covered in thanks, anchored by the measure of faith empowered by God, baked by the gift of my mother’s memory, a church mother, and daughter.
There is also an ingredient of acknowledged grace running through my veins. It is the heavenly blood that carries me. It shall, I pray, compel me to live with the practical commitment of giving as I have been given—especially if the meaningful giving involves the memory of my mother’s smile as she mixed the ingredients of her cake with a love that can be served only on a silver platter.
Blessings this 2018 season of a revelatory recognitions of God’s grace.