I pondered a lot today about when I made my mom's birthday cake this year.
I was weary from a day of volunteer teaching and baking, I had other cakes I made that week.
I coated the spongy chocolate Bundt in a silky layer of chocolate ganache and set to decorating it.
I had in my head "Like You" by Meyta. And like most people I followed the impulse to put that song.
I don't know if that impulse was Spirit given, what I do know is the overwhelming emotions that washed over me as I cut a few wafer biscuits in two.
I pondered how my childhood was full of so much strain between my mother and I.
It would've been so much easier for her to just walk away.
But she stayed. She did the hard thing. She stayed.
And oh how she was rewarded 20 years later, when, through a doctor's diagnosis, we finally begun to understand each other.
Who will love me like you?
Endless conversations, apologies, "I love you"s
Who will love me like you?
Then another thought occurred to me, as I carefully arranged fruit into the chocolaty goodness.
Who am I to receive love from God? Who am I?
It would've been so much easier for him to just forget me. Label me as lost for good.
And my momma know that truth more that anyone. She showed me Jesus's everlasting love.
So I found myself in that dimly lit kitchen, sticky fingers, wary, and watery eyed. As my brain kept echoing...
"Who will love me like you?"
Switching interchangeably between soft memories I had as a little girl.
"Who will love me like you?"
And the sheer love of my heavenly father.
If only I could pour such love into that cake. For both my momma and my creator.
But maybe in someway I did. For it was a damn good cake.