Yesterday I was frazzled. I had woken up feeling incredibly tired, but as every wife knows, the work doesn’t just go away because you want (or even need!) a day off!
And so I began my day. Shopping was a nightmare, with busy people rushing everywhere. On account of our recent (and somewhat expensive) furniture purchases to set up our little home I had to make do with only a little money to buy a million things. That made me stress. When I got home, there was shopping to be unpacked, the dishes hadn’t done themselves yet, the floor was still dirty, and the clutter on the dining table hadn’t moved. And then there was a knock at the door. The postman. A letter I had to sign for. As if I wanted to sign up for anything else on a day like this! Annoying man, interrupting all the work I still had to do. I pasted a smile on my face, signed for the letter, and said goodbye. The printed address didn’t look familiar but as I opened the letter that contained my official marriage certificate I felt a bunch of memories hitting me. The day that I pledged before God to love and cherish my husband, supporting him through good and bad times. And somehow my day got brighter – the shopping wouldn’t take long to unpack, the dishes weren’t that bad, and the table wouldn’t take that long to clear. The floor might take a little longer because the vacuum cleaner was playing up, but I could beat this! And I could even bake a cake to celebrate tonight! After all, its not every day that you get a marriage certificate!
I looked at the clock, counting the hours until my husband would be home for dinner. I hummed as I worked, and tasks seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, everything but the floor was done. So I decided to put the cake in the oven and sit and rest for a while.
Later, as I was crocheting and watching a favourite show, I had forgotten all about the cake. Suddenly I felt this urge to go to the kitchen. ‘Whatever for,’ I thought. ‘I’ve finished cleaning the kitchen, I don’t need to go back in there!’ The impression became stronger, and so I went. As I entered the kitchen, the heat of the oven hit me. In a panic I dashed to rescue the cake – a million scenarios of crisp-fried cake going through my head! I was sure it was going to be completely burned and I would have to start all over. And on a day like that, starting over was just too much for this little wife to handle! I grabbed an oven mitt and pulled out the cake, and to my shock it was perfectly cooked! Not a minute too long, not a minute too short. Just right.
You can try to tell me that was a coincidence, that God is much too busy to care about cakes. But I know better. As I shed a couple of tears of relief and gratitude, I thanked the God who cares enough about this frazzled little wife to save a cake worth a couple of dollars.
‘Casting all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.’ 1 Peter 5:7