Waiting

I've never been one to wait patiently. I have learned that waiting is a virtue, but it is certainly one that I struggle with even today. Often when I ponder things I am reminded of a childhood "example". This morning as I was waiting quietly in my prayer time I was reminded of when I learned to bake a cake. The first couple of times I baked this particular cake, mom was there to instruct and guide. I was now on my own! Feeling very grown up (at the age of 7) I proceeded to mix the cake batter up. The cake? Love-light Yellow Chiffon. The secret to this recipe was the eggs. You separate the egg white from the yoke; the yoke goes into the batter and you beat the whites to a stiff peak, then fold them gently into the batter. Divine!

The challenge was the stove. We cooked on a wood stove with only one firebox to the left side. Many wood cook stoves have two fire boxes, one on each side. The reason? To bake a cake with one side of the oven hotter than the other, you had to very carefully and gently turn the cake half-way through the baking or it would fall flat. If you opened the oven door too soon, it would fall flat. If you open the oven door every 5 minutes to check on it, you guessed it, the cake falls flat. Waiting patiently as you recall, was not my strong suit.

When I pulled this particular cake out of the oven it was as flat as a pancake. Mom gently reminded me of all the times I opened the oven door and that perhaps next time I would wait a bit more patiently to check on the cake. I nodded in agreement, with just a hint of a tear in my eye. What I didn't want to mention to mom was how many spoonful's of cake batter I had consumed before ever putting the poor thing in the oven. I was "checking" the cake to see if it was raising past the pathetic amount of batter in the pan to begin with. I was hoping to hide the fact that the cake was flatter than a pancake before it ever got put in the oven.

I learned more than one lesson that day. Even though I hid my cake batter consumption from mom I knew in my heart it was wrong. Although I never 'fessed up, I was corrected by the natural consequence of the cake not raising. I knew that opening the oven door often was only part of the problem. The other lesson? Hidden faults have consequences, too. Did I mention, I had a wee bit of a tummy ache to boot?!