Religious life says the kingdom of heaven is near, so get it together. Work life says work harder, strive for excellence, and be the best that you can be. Family life says unload the dishwasher and give the good dog a bone.

But big life—the life that threads all of that together—what message does she have?

So glad you asked. This is a question I can answer.

The message of life is this… dramatic pause… still pausing… find the cake.

Find the Cake

That little gem comes from a picture that flashed across my screen years ago and imprinted itself on my brain. Somewhere in Mississippi, a tornado roared through, destroying almost everything in its path—from trees to cars to lampposts to homes. The devastation showed up in every photo: trees uprooted, roofless houses, cars splayed across yards. Welcome to the daily news.

But then came the photo that interrupted our regularly scheduled programming with an important message.

In this photo I saw the inside of a house—the roof ripped off, the windows blown out, furniture upended. But on the counter, under an unbroken glass cover, sat a pound cake. Completely untouched.

Chaos all around it.

Except… that cake was right there in all its deliciousness—a little island of mmm-mmm good in the wake of a tornado.

I have been thinking about that cake for years—nourishment in the middle of a storm. Anybody could have walked into that roofless destruction, sliced themselves a piece, and had a treat.

Find the cake.

Personal Chaos

I know the things that leave a bitter taste in my mouth—the situations that worry me and make me feel troubled. Where do I taste goodness in that? I know where life tastes sour: the people who get on my nerves, the computer issues that drive me crazy. But where do I taste the goodness of God these days? Where do I find pound-cake moments in the midst of the crazy?

Find the Cake

I find pound cake in my family—even my pets—when I take time to really look at them. How did God come up with a cat? Whiskers and pink noses and little toes that look like beans. That is bean-toe cake.

When I can marvel at any of God’s creation—the fog rolling through the mountains or a lemon-colored sky—that is cake in the storm. Prayer—cake. Music—cake. Walks outside—big pieces of cake. Remembering to say thank you—cake. Calling a friend—cake.

These things don’t fix the situation, but they offer me a taste of something else—a little pocket of sweetness.

Life called. Find the cake.

Lea Slaton
Executive Director