Step back from the internet and bake

I walked into my office recently and found a fresh made chocolate pound cake sitting on my desk. The cake was perched on top of papers, notebooks, reports, sticky notes and pencils (they do not have software problems) scattered across the desk.

I’ve always assumed my desk was made of wood but it would take big burly men with hard hats and bright yellow safety vests operating jack hammers to dig through so much paper and junk to strike wood. I am thankful the cake did not become lost amidst the clutter and be found centuries from now by archeologists on a TV documentary called “Food of the Ancients”.

The cake was wrapped in clear cellophane with a white envelope on top and when opened there was a hand written note wishing me a happy birthday. The cake was from a co-worker, Margaret, who had taken the time.

The cake meant that recently in a kitchen bowls were brought out from shelves, eggs were broken and flour was sifted and measured, spoons, spatulas and other tools were used and scattered about. The kitchen slowly became a mess.

Probably the phone rang while she worked and she had to answer it with her one clean hand and while pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder she used both hands to measure vanilla extract as she told the caller what she was doing.

“…but that’s alright. Ok… I’ll talk to you later---uh huh… love you too. Bye.”

She poured the batter into a bunt cake pan, slid it into the oven and while the cake baked spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up flour, egg shells, utensils and drops of wet batter while planning supper for her husband.

Margaret and I are from a generation that was never divided and separated from each other by head phones, sealed cars and the internet. We grew up having to learn to talk to people directly and shake hands or hug one another and you covered your mouth when you coughed. Coming up like that teaches you that you are not alone in the world-- there are other people to be considered. Get off the internet and bake someone a cake.

The cake was handmade kindness to help ease the passing of time. At my age birthdays are timely warnings and I am more aware of decline and decrepitude. When someone tells me “You look great!” their eyes say “For a man your age”. As you age, forward motion is a sign of good health and hope---I try to keep enough momentum to reach the top of the next hill. Age also brings unease about any dark cloudy spots on your CT scans.

Laboring for another person makes for good health and peace of mind. The current generation thinks life is about tread mills, texting and blogs. But what we all want is a sense of worth and calling in life and if we slow down enough we may find it right in front of our noses. Labor can be its own reward.

Right now I am watching an electrician work on a fuse box in my house and it is obvious that he loves his work. So does my doctor. There is nothing like enthusiasm for what you do and there is no better satisfaction than to labor for another. Our Savior said that because He cares He has worked to prepare a place for us. Not for himself.

I would not be surprised if when I meet Him at that place and I am welcomed in, He smiles, and offers me a fresh baked pound cake.