It had been three days of a bad cold. My daughter and I were curled on opposite ends of the green couch, complaining and commiserating.
You know, lemon cake might help, I said.
Her eyes brightened. She stopped talking about her biology class where everything went wrong. She even half-way sat up.
Really lemony lemon cake. Super sour.
That did it. She turned on the music, I hefted my way into the kitchen, she pulled out the ingredients, and I set to mixing.
Once I started to smell the lemon filling the kitchen I knew this was a treat to share–with someone else who needed a lemony cure. I tried to think of others who were suffering with the same nasty, horrible, no-good cold, but everyone I could think of was (thankfully!) healthy. Then, I remembered… My heart sunk. I knew the lemon cake would only be a token gift, but my heart told me not to worry that the giving would be small.
A young mom in our church is strangely, seriously ill. The doctors are at a loss. Natalyia’s liver shut down, and in just one week she went from living a normal life to the very doorstep of leaving. People have rallied, her mom has returned from the Ukraine, and friends are caring for her young son. On Saturday I took the family who is caring for the young boy the lemon cake, and yesterday another young boy had a tragic car accident and the family donated his liver to Nataliya. We are waiting to see how her body reacts to the transplant. Please think of them all, pray for them all, and if you happen to be healthy at the moment, maybe you, too, can give a little something to someone who is on the other side of well.
Meanwhile, I’m on the mend, and seeing the bright, sweet lemony side of things before me. Especially hopeful for Nataliya.
Especially hopeful for Nataliya.
The Woman and the Wheat 