Timing.
Sometimes this means being in the right place- at the right time- and then all the right that you ever hoped would happen does.
But sometimes it is a bummer of a word. When someone tells you the timing just isn't right, it means there is a wait. And waiting is hard.
Last night Brooke had a friend over to spend the night. Just about the time my eyes were closing and dreams were brimming on the edge of my consciousness, I heard a little person ask me if she and her friend could make something.
It was getting late. The kitchen was closed for the day. The teeth had been brushed. And I was in no mood to snap back to life.
But then again, it is summer. And if there is ever a time to break a few bedtime rules and really throw caution to the wind it should be now.
So, I surprised her with a yes.
Oh the thrill of an unexpected yes.
And to make matters even better, it would be an unsupervised, unexpected yes. Really could life get any better for two nine year old bakers?
Soon there was whipping and stirring and giggling and tasting and ohhhhing and ahhhhing. And finally there was baking.
But do you know how hard it is to smell a cake of the chocolate variety baking and not want to rush the process?
Do you know how torturous it is to stand nose to glass at the oven door willing a cake to rise. At the first evidence of the batter turning into something less liquid, I imagine a great debate ensued.
The directions clearly said how long the cake needed to bake. But the visual evidence begged otherwise. "Well, it looks done. It smells done. It feels like it should be done. We want it to be done. So, let's just call it done. "
And with that, the two bakers talked their older sister into removing the cake from the oven and turning off that pesky little timer that was a clear visual warning against the early removal of the cake.
Immediately, they flipped the cake out of the pan, covered it with icing and grabbed two plates.
Suddenly, the cake imploded. Imagine a sink hole. A tasty sink hole, but a definite sink hold non the less.
What looked so perfect just minutes before could not hold up under the weight of its undone center.
I think there's quite a spiritual correlation there.
___________________________________________________________________
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful prayers you wrote for my mom yesterday. I was quite simply stunned by your response. I was able to get a last minute plane ticket to be able to go visit my mom this weekend. Your prayers will be my companion. You have no idea how much that means.
Sometimes this means being in the right place- at the right time- and then all the right that you ever hoped would happen does.
But sometimes it is a bummer of a word. When someone tells you the timing just isn't right, it means there is a wait. And waiting is hard.
Last night Brooke had a friend over to spend the night. Just about the time my eyes were closing and dreams were brimming on the edge of my consciousness, I heard a little person ask me if she and her friend could make something.
It was getting late. The kitchen was closed for the day. The teeth had been brushed. And I was in no mood to snap back to life.
But then again, it is summer. And if there is ever a time to break a few bedtime rules and really throw caution to the wind it should be now.
So, I surprised her with a yes.
Oh the thrill of an unexpected yes.
And to make matters even better, it would be an unsupervised, unexpected yes. Really could life get any better for two nine year old bakers?
Soon there was whipping and stirring and giggling and tasting and ohhhhing and ahhhhing. And finally there was baking.
But do you know how hard it is to smell a cake of the chocolate variety baking and not want to rush the process?
Do you know how torturous it is to stand nose to glass at the oven door willing a cake to rise. At the first evidence of the batter turning into something less liquid, I imagine a great debate ensued.
The directions clearly said how long the cake needed to bake. But the visual evidence begged otherwise. "Well, it looks done. It smells done. It feels like it should be done. We want it to be done. So, let's just call it done. "
And with that, the two bakers talked their older sister into removing the cake from the oven and turning off that pesky little timer that was a clear visual warning against the early removal of the cake.
Immediately, they flipped the cake out of the pan, covered it with icing and grabbed two plates.
Suddenly, the cake imploded. Imagine a sink hole. A tasty sink hole, but a definite sink hold non the less.
What looked so perfect just minutes before could not hold up under the weight of its undone center.
I think there's quite a spiritual correlation there.
___________________________________________________________________
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the beautiful prayers you wrote for my mom yesterday. I was quite simply stunned by your response. I was able to get a last minute plane ticket to be able to go visit my mom this weekend. Your prayers will be my companion. You have no idea how much that means.
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