- Jun 27, 2003
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Icing on a Cake
A fuzzy bright Blue Bear sat inside the sheet cake playpen. Both bear and playpen were made of chocolate, iced with care, was decorated with tiny Roses and Forget-Me-Nots. Plastic dowels were embedded, secured to the sheet cake edgings, forming vertical, equal sized groupings of white to resemble an old fashioned playpen.
I snapped pictures as the finishing touches were applied with care. Wandering through the growing group who came in celebration of this miracle child, I marveled of the beautiful clear blue skies and soft cool breeze. A nice surprise in its self, considering that the day before it was in the high 90's.
Anne, the Mother-to-be is my nephew's (Gabe) beautiful wife.
The story goes, (in sharing through many mouths) that they were friends for a very long time, but each was hesitant to mention the "L" word, for fear of ruining their friendship. They kept it cool, they kept it light, individually playing the same game of tug-of-war against emotions.
He shared of his past, his hopes, his dreams...always skipping around the "we" issue.
She shared...of her leukemia and remission, her fragile health (diabetes), her hopes and dreams. Yes, she too skipped around the same "we" issue.
Anne finally came to the conclusion that there was no hope in developing their relationship further. Unwilling to keep it on a friendship level alone, she prayed for guidance.
Heartbroken, but wanting only the best for her best friend-and trusting God, she accepted an offer of a job opportunity in another state. About this time, she received a terrible medical blow: the combined treatments for leukemia, and her diabetes indicated that any pregnancy would more than likely end in miscarriage, and endanger her life.
At 19, that was a very difficult concept to consider.
Crushed, she grasped tightly in remembering that God would not turn His back on her, even through this awful mess. She felt there was no future to offer hope in having a biological family, but still-she walked forward...and out of Gabe's sight.
Gabe, wanting to give his best friend space, watched in silence as she left.
I know it's an old, worn cliché, but about as close to the truth as words will allow: both felt a void...emptiness.
Both felt guilty...shame, thinking that the void (if they were truly Christian) would be filled with HIM-taking the place of their loss.
Prayerfully, a tiny thread spun thought, wrapped around each to connect. An idea simultaneously wove, looping a permanent strong bond of hope. Maybe...maybe it wasn't that God WASN'T in the void, but that He created, made room for each-together?
With Him.
A floodgate opened, washed over Gabe. Hanging tightly to the Life Preserver of Hope, he swept with the tide-crossing physical miles that separated him from his best friend, trusting God to supply the words in the deepest part of his soul.
Yes...they married. And yes, this alone would be a fitting, lovely story-but as your read in the beginning paragraph, there is more.
Years passed. They continued to direct their eyes, their lives toward Him. Surrounded by friends and family, they stood together, side by side, sharing joy as others brought new life into the world. They were always among the first to wrap their arms around these gifts of children...volunteering to baby-sit, jockeying schedules to build relationships with the youngest Generation.
Anne was shocked when discovering of their pregnancy. So was Gabe. So were all who knew of their medical history.
Family and friends took up imaginary areas across lines of thought/opinion. Had to ask honest questions directed at their own beliefs as to whom they trusted, and discovered that trust isn't based on knowing all the answers beforehand...but the Source.
The Dr's insisted that the decision to continue with this pregnancy was unwise. Ended the conversation with a long list of do's/don'ts (mainly don'ts). He concluded the sobering office visit with stacked papers listing various other Specialists, a breakdown of monitoring red flag discomforts, and a general attitude of "until you miscarry".
As for today...
I wander about, two weeks before her due date, capturing moments frozen in time.
-Anne, smiling into the camera, long tendrils of hair lifting with the breeze,
-Grandparents,
-cousins,
-friends,
-co-workers...
all flock around, filling the air with laughter, companionship. Joy.
I work my way around the exterior of the group, quiet and unobtrusive. Wanting one last shot of the cake, I meander over to the table and discover all the dowels on the back of the playpen/cake are missing.
The back of the sheet cake had little holes burrowed into it, and all the blue "fur" icing around the backside of the bear's lap is gone-exposing a chocolate immodest view of his rear. Squatting below the table and looking up at me with dark puppy-wide eyes fringed in long lashes is my youngest nephew, Ricky.
Smurflike, this three year old has blue icing stuck in his eyebrows, adhered to his cheeks and chin, and smeared with across his mouth. Freckled liberally with tiny grains of fluffy chocolate cake, he grins wide-adding more proof of his adventuring.
Dropping down to my knees, I locked eyes with him. Asked, "Did you do this?"
Somberly, and never breaking eye contact, he shook his head no. Reaching our, he stretched one sticky pudgy hand covered with such sweet promise, and put his fingers in my mouth to taste.
He's right. He didn't do it.
God did.
And life, once again is sweet.
By Karen Rice
Submitted by Richard
A fuzzy bright Blue Bear sat inside the sheet cake playpen. Both bear and playpen were made of chocolate, iced with care, was decorated with tiny Roses and Forget-Me-Nots. Plastic dowels were embedded, secured to the sheet cake edgings, forming vertical, equal sized groupings of white to resemble an old fashioned playpen.
I snapped pictures as the finishing touches were applied with care. Wandering through the growing group who came in celebration of this miracle child, I marveled of the beautiful clear blue skies and soft cool breeze. A nice surprise in its self, considering that the day before it was in the high 90's.
Anne, the Mother-to-be is my nephew's (Gabe) beautiful wife.
The story goes, (in sharing through many mouths) that they were friends for a very long time, but each was hesitant to mention the "L" word, for fear of ruining their friendship. They kept it cool, they kept it light, individually playing the same game of tug-of-war against emotions.
He shared of his past, his hopes, his dreams...always skipping around the "we" issue.
She shared...of her leukemia and remission, her fragile health (diabetes), her hopes and dreams. Yes, she too skipped around the same "we" issue.
Anne finally came to the conclusion that there was no hope in developing their relationship further. Unwilling to keep it on a friendship level alone, she prayed for guidance.
Heartbroken, but wanting only the best for her best friend-and trusting God, she accepted an offer of a job opportunity in another state. About this time, she received a terrible medical blow: the combined treatments for leukemia, and her diabetes indicated that any pregnancy would more than likely end in miscarriage, and endanger her life.
At 19, that was a very difficult concept to consider.
Crushed, she grasped tightly in remembering that God would not turn His back on her, even through this awful mess. She felt there was no future to offer hope in having a biological family, but still-she walked forward...and out of Gabe's sight.
Gabe, wanting to give his best friend space, watched in silence as she left.
I know it's an old, worn cliché, but about as close to the truth as words will allow: both felt a void...emptiness.
Both felt guilty...shame, thinking that the void (if they were truly Christian) would be filled with HIM-taking the place of their loss.
Prayerfully, a tiny thread spun thought, wrapped around each to connect. An idea simultaneously wove, looping a permanent strong bond of hope. Maybe...maybe it wasn't that God WASN'T in the void, but that He created, made room for each-together?
With Him.
A floodgate opened, washed over Gabe. Hanging tightly to the Life Preserver of Hope, he swept with the tide-crossing physical miles that separated him from his best friend, trusting God to supply the words in the deepest part of his soul.
Yes...they married. And yes, this alone would be a fitting, lovely story-but as your read in the beginning paragraph, there is more.
Years passed. They continued to direct their eyes, their lives toward Him. Surrounded by friends and family, they stood together, side by side, sharing joy as others brought new life into the world. They were always among the first to wrap their arms around these gifts of children...volunteering to baby-sit, jockeying schedules to build relationships with the youngest Generation.
Anne was shocked when discovering of their pregnancy. So was Gabe. So were all who knew of their medical history.
Family and friends took up imaginary areas across lines of thought/opinion. Had to ask honest questions directed at their own beliefs as to whom they trusted, and discovered that trust isn't based on knowing all the answers beforehand...but the Source.
The Dr's insisted that the decision to continue with this pregnancy was unwise. Ended the conversation with a long list of do's/don'ts (mainly don'ts). He concluded the sobering office visit with stacked papers listing various other Specialists, a breakdown of monitoring red flag discomforts, and a general attitude of "until you miscarry".
As for today...
I wander about, two weeks before her due date, capturing moments frozen in time.
-Anne, smiling into the camera, long tendrils of hair lifting with the breeze,
-Grandparents,
-cousins,
-friends,
-co-workers...
all flock around, filling the air with laughter, companionship. Joy.
I work my way around the exterior of the group, quiet and unobtrusive. Wanting one last shot of the cake, I meander over to the table and discover all the dowels on the back of the playpen/cake are missing.
The back of the sheet cake had little holes burrowed into it, and all the blue "fur" icing around the backside of the bear's lap is gone-exposing a chocolate immodest view of his rear. Squatting below the table and looking up at me with dark puppy-wide eyes fringed in long lashes is my youngest nephew, Ricky.
Smurflike, this three year old has blue icing stuck in his eyebrows, adhered to his cheeks and chin, and smeared with across his mouth. Freckled liberally with tiny grains of fluffy chocolate cake, he grins wide-adding more proof of his adventuring.
Dropping down to my knees, I locked eyes with him. Asked, "Did you do this?"
Somberly, and never breaking eye contact, he shook his head no. Reaching our, he stretched one sticky pudgy hand covered with such sweet promise, and put his fingers in my mouth to taste.
He's right. He didn't do it.
God did.
And life, once again is sweet.
By Karen Rice
Submitted by Richard
